There’s a deadly disease that’s recently been released on an unsuspecting public, and everybody’s at risk. Every single person out there is susceptible to MOTT. What’s MOTT, you ask? It’s the Master Of The Telecaster disease. But if you’re one of the lucky people who rushes out and picks up Albert Collins’s Live at Montreux 1992 CD and DVD when they’re released, you’ll be protected.

Either of these contains sufficient Master of the Telecaster vaccine to inoculate you. One treatment, listening or watching, and you’re home free. Both, and you're in Fat City. A treatment of the DVD is longer lasting since it has four cuts that are not available on the CD. But before you start whining, the CD is not even two minutes short of an hour of Grade A Prime Albert Collins serum, which is more than fair in anybody’s book.

Seriously readers, this performance is one of the finest I’ve seen of Collins, and it’s also one of the finest of any blues singer who has graced the stage at Montreux. For those who aren’t familiar, Montreux is one of the finest and most prestigious venues in Europe. When you play Montreux, you’ve arrived. And Collins played there twice. Even the great Slow Hand, Eric Clapton, has not been invited to Montreux more often.

Montreux, in spite of being the most prestigious festival, is a Mecca for music lovers. Montreux is usually the place where everybody comes to be seen, with its grand casino, but not during the annual festival. Oh, sure, the stars will be seen, but even they couldn’t care less whether they’re photographed or recognized, if you can believe that. They’re there to listen and watch and to have a good time.

Collins puts on one hell of a show, coming out doing that signature jitter-jump, a wide grin on his face, the feathers still hanging from his mouth. It's the cat that ate the canary smile; not a professional smile, but a down-to-the-soles-of-my-feet-I’m-so-damned-happy-to-be-here smile. The Master Of The Telecaster loves the blues, and he’s not afraid to demonstrate his happiness to everybody. He doesn’t need to ask if everybody’s having a good time. He knows they are! And they know they are.

The CD is less than two minutes short of a full hour, while the DVD is even longer due to bonus footage from Collins’s 1979 Montreux appearance, tipping the timescale at 102 minutes. And it’s all cookin,’ every last second of it. Plus, Collins has a top-notch group backing him, and he has no qualms with each of them having his turn in the spotlight, too. Every one of them has at least one solo at some point, and every one of them deserves the ovations they receive.