Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10
That’s What I Heard, the song that catches the fire in our in our imagination, or the scurrilous whisper which transforms in time to the unremitting, unforgiving rumour; there is a way to decern between the two states of conscious feedback, just look to the one with the sincerest voice and which praises with nothing to gain from having done so.
It would be unjust to ever suggest that Robert Cray, one of the great guitarists of his generation, and who stands arguably alone, unbowed, undaunted, as a shining, stirring example of the Blues during a period when it had more than lost its way from the late 70s to the turn of the century. As a machine, there is a perfect purring engine holding court with the sublime observation with a pure beating heart that accompanies his favourite guitars and presence and it is one that again captures the moment in his latest offering, the sweet and the funky, That’s What I Heard.
What we all hear is difference, now more than ever there is a call for each one of us to be treated equally, to smash a system that has taken great care to foster division, fear and envy, and bring each living, breathing, human being to place where they can thrive, prosper and be able to tell their stories, to dream of hope.
It has always surely been a mantra that comes through in the work of Robert Cray, the softness of voice betraying the giant heart that wants to break down the false barriers that have been created, and in tracks such as the opening gambits of Anything You Want and Burying Ground, the honesty of hope and expression in You’ll Want Me Back, Promises You Can’t Keep, Little Less Lonely, My Baby Likes To Boogaloo and You Can’t Make Me Change, that sense of humour, that passion for the craft, the story and the gravitas of his will are all highlighted, all pounding with bliss and the blues machine.
We all need to be reminded at times that we can be greater than what our mind, other’s opinions, tell us that we are, and That’s What I Heard is a stunning example of how that reminder catches us at our best, at our most valuable. An album of tremendous pleasure and respect, bathed in the concentration of a couple of cover serenades, presented with fire in his own words, Robert Cray has once again brought the listener a gift that is wrapped in admiration for our own soul.
Ian D. Hall