It is a central tenet of the blues that you don’t just play it, you live it. If any one contemporary artist sums up this maxim, it is Eric Gales, a remarkably talented, emotionally honest artist who pours his heart and soul into the music that is his life’s work. As such, time spent with Eric, whether watching him live on stage, or listening to one of his records, is both rewarding and cathartic. Produced by Josh Smith and the increasingly ubiquitous Joe Bonamassa, Crown is an album that not only seeks to define Eric Gales’ place within the great pantheon of the blues, but it is also the most vulnerable album to which he has put his name. With lyrics that reference his past struggles with substance abuse, Crown strives to understand the darkness, even as it looks towards the light, and the results are often astonishing.
The album kicks off with a spoken word intro – “My name is Eric Gales, any questions?” – before Eric snaps into an electrifying riff. A mid-tempo track that showcases an arena-filling production from Joe and Josh, Death Of Me sounds a million dollars. With the taut beat and gritty guitars given plenty of space in the mix, it allows for Eric’s rich vocal tones to float straight down the centre. It makes for one hell of a start, the lyrics exhorting the listener to learn from past mistakes rather than allow them to mount up, and the guitar work throughout is nothing short of exquisite. Following on, The Storm kicks off acapella, Eric’s naked vocal asking the poignant question “how can you love what I do, but hate who I am?” before he leads his band into a gorgeous, soul-infused number with a Robert Cray vibe. It’s such a pleasure listening to Eric whoop with delight as he tears into the solo, and you can’t help but warm to someone so obviously lost in the process of creation. The brief Had To Dip is a short jam, before the punishing I Want My Crown (Feat. Joe Bonamassa) sets hairs aquiver on the back of the neck, the two ace guitarists clearly exhilarated at the challenge they represent to one another. With brass adding polish and hip-hop elements sneaking into the mix, I Want My Crown is one of those rare collaborations that not only meets all the heady expectations placed upon it, but actually exceeds them. Wisely, in following it up, Stand Up doesn’t even try to compete, Eric opting for a slow blues with a heavy organ presence and sublime backing vocals.
It’s time to bring that beat back, and the hardwired rock ‘n’ blues of Survivor packs the sort of groove that made the Blues Brothers Soundtrack such a thrill ride. As with Death Of Me, the production here is absolutely astounding – Josh and Joe bringing out every nuance in Eric’s typically ambitious arrangements. A classic blues number in the vein of Buddy Guy is up next, with Eric asserting You Don’t Know The Blues. There’s some dizzying soloing on display here (as you’d expect, if you’re going to head off on a Buddy Guy trip), and it’s something of an album highlight. The short, sweet Rattlin’ Change is a jam session that acts as a palette cleanser before the epic-length Too Close To The Fire sees Eric bare his soul to his loyal listeners. It’s a beautiful track, lyrically and musically, recalling the Floyd’s Comfortably Numb in scope (and chord structure), and it sits perfectly at the heart of the album. In its wake, Put That Back has a funky strut and a twinkle in its eye. It paves the way for the equally funky Take Me Just As I Am (Feat LaDonna Gales), which sees LaDonna absolutely steam on lead vocals – not only is she Eric’s rock, but also his equal when it comes to utterly inhabiting a track.
With the album hurtling past, Cupcakin’ is the third and final jam, allowing the listener to draw breath before the funky highlight of Let Me Start With This grabs your attention. The pace changes considerably on the beautiful, Cajun-tinged I Found Her, which takes its sweet time wending its way to a solo that simply rips out of the speakers. You can feel the pent up emotion racing through Eric’s fingers as they fly over the fretboard, and there’s no doubt this will make for a showstopping moment when Eric tours. The lights are turned down low for the slinky My Own Best Friend, all organ stabs and creamy vocals and then, with sense of humour fully intact, Eric rounds things out with the spontaneous I Gotta Go – the band jamming as Eric takes his leave. It’s a bright and breezy, horn-fuelled number and it brings the album to a perfect conclusion.
Eric Gales never disappoints, but with Crown he has, nevertheless, delivered something truly special. From the production, which truly is demo-worthy, to the exquisite musicianship, it’s a musical triumph. However, more than that, it’s a triumph of the spirit and there’s so much heart on display that you can’t help but feel that to spend an hour in the company of this record is to spend an hour in the company of the man himself. Put simply, Crown is a masterpiece and one that will be lighting up stereos the world over for years to come. 10/10
