In an age of odd pairings and off-the-wall unions, the idea of a supergroup seems as quaint and antiquated as factory cassettes. They still have them though, don’t they? There’s Chickenfoot, which arguably sounds better on paper than on record. And then there’s this strange concoction put together by world-class producer Kevin Shirley called Black Country Communion. The big difference is that it makes total and complete sense.
Instead of throwing a bunch of prima donna superstars together in hopes of tapping into some sort of magical formula, Shirley instead matched a combination of musicians ripe for ripping and ready to gather steam at the drop of a needle. Glenn Hughes, who more than paid his dues with Trapeze, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath and Hughes/Thrall, is in remarkable form these days and just aching to step it up. You can tell guitarist Joe Bonamassa, who’s been gaining considerable ground in blues circles for the last 10 years, is just as anxious, screaming to add his fiery style to a solid rock idiom. Add drummer Jason Bonham, deprived of an extended Led Zeppelin tour, and keyboardist Derek Sherinian (Dream Theater, Billy Idol, Alice Cooper), and you can taste the hunger factor, as potent behind this band of consummate pros as it is with the youngest of upstarts.
Picture the soulful renderings of Deep Purple circa 1975, fill it out with a bluesy, SRV-meets-Jimmy Page tone, bust it out with the power of a Bonham and crease the edges and line the melodies with just the right touch of keys and — that’s Black Country Communion in a nutshell. Hughes’ slinky bass work and commanding vocal dominates the drive of “Black Country,” while the singer’s funky roots make “One Last Soul” an instant favorite.
Hearing Hughes wale beside Bonamassa’s fluid, in-the-groove guitar work on tracks like “The Great Divide,” the rapturous “Beggar Man” and even the old classic Trapeze track “Medusa” — it’s hard not to envision this sound crowding out the airwaves in 1973, yet retaining a classic enough sheen to get constant replays on retro rock radio today.
Bonamassa pulls double duty as an occasional blues-inflected lead vocalist (no surprise here as he typically sings on his own records), notably on “Song Of Yesterday” where he and Hughes exchange verses between measures of evasive orchestrations serving little to no purpose whatsoever. Fortunately, the guitarist plucks down mean and hard for an extended jam that displaces the strings. His voice assumes command on “The Revolution In Me,” a heavy-duty poker that digs in like a junkyard dog on reconnaissance — before the guitar rips up the floorboards, Bonham nails down the tempo and we’re back to square one.
The cosmic, Cream-like aura of “Too Late For The Sun” gives the group plenty of time to test the waters from every angle. One nomadic passage finds Bonamassa and Sherinian crossing bows and arrows, thick chunks of Hammond over slinky leads, but then Bonham stomps on the breaks and the record ends without so much as a handshake and a smooch goodnight. All the more to start the damn thing over and listen for what you missed the first time around. This is the kind of record you used to do that with.
Step back and witness Black Country Communion take one step off the mark, sprinting through a glorious field of roses, thorns and all, victorious enough for an extended stay and all the rewards musicians like these justly deserve. Whatever is around the corner oughta be good.
~ Shawn Perry
