It's actually quite annoying how good this is, when you think how little Robertson has recorded over the last quarter of a century. As yet another delightful melodic solo gets peeled off, you can't help but shake your fist in his direction and demand to know what took so damned long! For sure, I'd rather he'd brought someone else in on vocals, but his own voice isn't bad, just unremarkable. Instead, just listen to the guitar playing on "Passion," "Texas Wind" or "Do It Till We Drop (Drop It!)" and think about the wee fresh-faced boy who promised so much. It's no surprise that one of the songs here is called "Devil In My Soul."
I understand why the old songs have been dug out again, but I'd rather have heard some more new material, as there have been visits to the studio by Robbo over the years with songs like "Linger My Love" being recorded but then discarded. That said, it's just so nice to hear his guitar again, after such a long time, that it's easy to forgive, if not forget. The album itself has a good, rich sound, no doubt thanks to the studio presence of Scandinavian uber-producer Chris Laney. Hopefully, it's the start of a comeback from Robbo, but never has the phrase "don't hold your breath" seemed more appropriate.
Article comments
1 - Axelinger
As I sit here listening to this album, one thought continually springs to mind. Where is the fire and in-your-face attitude of the Brian Robertson, who tore up the fretboard in Thin Lizzy, Motorhead and Wild Horses? Aside from the odd spark, there's nothing here to get worked up about, and the overkill of annoying female backing vocals are the very definition of cringe-worthy. Every track is dragged down by some chick yelping away, which adds absolutely nothing of substance. Limp, tepid, and even wimpy; how can anyone compare this dreck with the brilliance Robertson has offered up in his stellar past? I really wanted to like this album, but I guess my expectations were way too high. I was looking for the Robbo of old, and wound up just getting an old Robbo. Pity.