Gary Hoey’s 21st album sees the guitar-slinger teamed up with a number of luminaries including the increasingly ubiquitous Eric Gales, Josh Smith, Lance Lopez and, as a very special guest, his son Ian, for an album that pays glorious tribute to the blues. Heavily influenced by the Kings of the blues: “Albert King, Freddie king, BB King, and finish with some Burger King!” Neon Highway Blues sees Gary self-producing an album comprising eleven vibrant, varied tracks which offer up everything from heavy, Zeppelin-esque material to slower, more contemplative blues. It’s a thing of wonder from start to finish – an album of great diversity that allows Gary to play to his considerable strengths – and it’s easy to feel the raw enthusiasm that Gary still brings to his artistry with each and every recording.
Opening with the funky Jeff Beck-isms of Under the rug (which features the awesome talents of Eric gales), the album gets off to a flying start. Eric and Gary go way back and are superlative players, whose interaction is almost-psychic in nature. It’s a brilliant, upbeat, sunny song with a smooth vocal and a driving beat and it’s the perfect album opener. Things slow a touch for the sweet blues of Mercy of love (feat. Josh Smith), one of those songs that takes the classic structures of the blues and runs with it, both Josh and Gary delivering sublime lead work in the process. Next up, Gary and his band hit the Roadhouse with the electrifying Your kind of love, a taut shuffle that features some particularly fiery guitar work. One of those tracks that more-or-less grabs you by the lapels and demands that you dance, your kind of love delivers the blues with a big smile and an insistent rhythm. Particularly emotional is the track, don’t come crying, which features Gary’s then-sixteen-year-old son Ian Hoey joining the family business. Gary is clearly delighted that his son is set to continue the Hoey tradition and in interviews he has stated that, on listening back to the track, he could scarcely remember which lines belonged to him and which to Ian. It’s a great track and, if it is anything to go by, audiences have much anticipate in Ian’s future career. However, that lies in the future, and for now, we have this fantastic father-son track that gets to the very essence of the blues with its well-worn lyrical themes and call-and-response guitar work. The first half of the album concludes with the bright, breezy still believe in love which harks back to the fifties and conjures images of well-heeled teenagers jiving in the archetypal diner.
With the first half having ended on a glorious, up-beat note, Gary takes things down a notch on the beautiful almost heaven. It’s a show-stopping, cinematic instrumental that sees Gary place his very heart and soul into the art of guitar playing, the track providing the perfect prelude to the gargantuan, Zeppelin-esque stomp of I felt alive. This is how an album should be sequenced – with thought and care given to the ebb and flow so that the listener feels like they’ve been on a journey alongside the artist. When the huge, gnarled guitar tone of I felt alive launches itself from the speakers, it’s impossible not to feel the adrenalin flood the veins as the band put the pedal to the metal and the layered vocals on the chorus only add to the joy the song induces. After so epic a track, waiting on the sun sees the pace slow as Gary leads his band into a lovely instrumental ballad with hints of Gary Moore in the subtle guitar work woven around the central melody. Not afraid to employ some tasty, chunky chords as the piece swells towards its conclusion, Gary knows exactly when to deploy the sonic firepower he keeps in reserve and the climactic solo is suitably mind blowing. It paves the way perfectly for the barn-storming Damned if I do, which sees Lance Lopez join the party, with a taut beat and some gnarled slide adding guts to an already gritty track. With the album reaching its end, Gary has one last belter up his sleeve with the smooth groove of Living the highlife. One of those songs that gets the foot tapping whether you will or no, it has a sweet riff and plenty of energy (you know it’ll be a blast live) and it sees the album heading towards the door, its vitality undimmed. The album concludes with Neon Highway Blues, a silken, instrumental finale that recalls David Gilmour’s on an island with its liquid slide work. Evocative of a long drive towards the setting sun, it perfectly encapsulates the wonder of the whole album and it provides the perfect curtain call.
Neon Highway Blues is one of those great blues records that just does everything right. It draws together some huge rock numbers, a number of slower, more reflective pieces, some great, trad-blues toe-tappers and, through it all, some of the most glorious guitar work you’ll hear all year. That Gary loves playing the guitar is obvious in every raging chord and every sweet solo – there’s a vibrancy to his fret work that is refreshing, exciting and never overplayed. A wonderful journey across the American blues landscape, Neon Highway Blues is a glorious record from start to finish and settling down with the album, the lights turned down low, is to leave the cares of the world behind for fifty glorious minutes. Blues perfection. 10
