Joe Bonamassa is a rarity in a world where celebrity is often prized higher than artistic growth. Eschewing endless writing sessions and interminable delays in the studio in favour of an old school approach that sees Joe alternating tours and new albums with remarkable regularity, the fact that each new release feels like a genuine event speaks volumes about the quality of Joe’s output. With Time Clocks, Joe’s Fifteenth album since 2000, Joe’s work with artists such as Joanne Shaw Taylor and Joanna Connor seems to have lit a fire under his rockier side and the album positively leaps from the speakers.
A short, atmospheric introduction with earthy percussion and eerie piano, Pilgrimage provides a gorgeous introduction to the album before segueing into the effervescent rock of Notches. A seven-minute epic with John Henry overtones, this is Bonamassa combining autobiography with crushing riffs and the melodic depth that has been his trademark since the very first strains of A New Day Yesterday. When reviewing the single on first release, we suggested it pointed to a very special album indeed, and oh boy was that an understatement, as we find the second Joe plunges into the elegant blues of The Heart That Never Waits. Opening with an epic riff reminiscent of the John-Barry-aping Royal Tea before heading into a gorgeously lazy blues number complete with massed harmonies on the chorus, it’s easy to see band and audience really digging this one when Joe takes it to the stage. The album’s epic title track is no less of a joy. It starts big, wrongfooting the listener with a riff that nods in the direction of The Who before exploring a wealth of different moods and ending up on a chorus that wouldn’t be out of place on a Meat Loaf record. It’s a sign of Joe’s ever-expanding musical horizons that he can draw together so many elements, whilst still maintaining a foot in the blues camp and, for all the weight deployed, the track remains a heartfelt exploration of Joe’s desire to move ever forward as an artist. It’s followed by a shorter, sharper number, the whimsical Questions And Answers, which pitches nimbly plucked strings against a stinging riff that crackles with energy.
Taking the opportunity to draw the shades down, the acoustic strum of Mind’s Eye provides a counterpoint to the explosive energy of its forebear, Joe carving out a classic ballad in the process. Emotionally-charged, it’s classic Joe and, as you might expect from a track destined to be a mid-set favourite for years to come, it builds beautifully. In contrast, Curtain Call feels like Joe channelling all the nervous energy of his live performances into an electrifying piece modelled on Kashmir and delivered with all the sturm und drang of Black Country Communion at their hardest. Epic? For sure. One of the best things Joe’s ever written? Quite possibly. This is the sort of foundation-crumbling, air-guitar-inspiring hard blues of which legends are made and yet Joe makes it look easy. After such an outpouring, Joe wisely heads to a lighter place with The Loyal Kind, employing the sort of whimsical folk elements and imagery of Zeppelin’s III as a palette cleanser, only to peel out a ferocious riff with such sudden vigour that you find yourself physically reeling back. Such knife-edge dynamics have been at the heart of Joe’s appeal for years, but oh boy does he really keep you on you on your toes with this one. A Bonamassa album without a funky blues would be a sad affair indeed and, in Hanging On A Loser, Joe riffs on the sort of brass-infused joy that found full voice on his Red Rocks performance. A glorious outpouring that is over too quickly, Hanging On A Loser nevertheless paves the way for the bittersweet album closer Known Unknowns. A track that builds steadily, via a typically immersive chorus, towards Joe’s typically heroic solos and the crashing keys of Lachy Doley. What a climax! It is absolutely the ending this album needs and, with not a weak moment in sight, you’ll be cueing it up for another play before you’re even aware your fingers are moving towards the dial.
Joe Bonamassa is a true artist. His approach to the blues, to his band and to music in general is one of continuous evolution and no two albums sound the same. Where may artists seek to repeat past glories, Joe sees each record simply as the next step on a journey that must always move forward, and it is this restless spirit that makes each and every album feel like a true adventure. As with any artist of such calibre, fans will likely debate over their favourite record without ever reaching a clear conclusion but, for what it’s worth, Time Clocks might just be one of the most consistently thrilling records to which Joe has put his name. 10/10
