This is our first time at the well-appointed Cambridge Junction, a conveniently located venue that sits within a leisure complex in central Cambridge. With various restaurants nearby (our pick being the Rocker’s Steakhouse), it’s a good venue made all the better by an impressive sound system, a decent stage with wide viewing angles and friendly, welcoming staff.
Tonight we, along with a sizeable crowd, are here to see the indomitable force of nature that is Walter Trout. I discovered Walter relatively late in the day, with 2013’s Luther’s Blues, Walter’s touching tribute to blues legend Luther Allison, but I was immediately hooked. While his skill is beyond question, it was the passion with which he tackled the songs that made me realise that this was an artist I needed to see live, and I was lucky to catch a show soon after, as he toured in support of the album.
Walter has had a harder time than most, but that same passion, that same love, that was so apparent in Luther’s Blues, is surely what kept him going through the gravest of illnesses. Love of his wife, Marie; love of his family; love of the blues and of playing guitar and, without a doubt, an absolute love of bringing all these pieces together on stage, in front of an audience who cannot but fail to respond. As such, a Walter Trout show is something very special – a meeting of like-minds that can throw up all sorts of curveballs, as we’re reminded tonight when Walter’s protégé, Danny Bryant, joins him on stage for a moment that is as touching as it is incendiary. But we are getting ahead of ourselves…
The show opens with Alastair Greene, a blues rock singer with a storied history. Tonight, he is flying solo and, with only his trusty guitar and a looper pedal in tow, he does a fine job of captivating the crowd. As we arrive, he’s halfway through a number that draws together hints of Springsteen and Neil Young for what is best described as tasteful Americana. However, for his next track, he kicks things up a notch as he covers Muddy Waters’ Rambling Mind, which has a solid pulse to it, while a pair of tracks from his most recent album make good use of that looper once more (“can I play with myself one more time?” he quips), and by the time we get to his final track, the crowd, initially indifferent, are baying for more.
Reminding us that he’s a rocker (“you can tell by my haircut that I like to rock out”), Alastair unexpectedly teases a line from Maiden’s The Trooper before leaving us with Living Today (check out the video here), a pacey track with elements of Quo boogie and some sparkling lead at its conclusion. Not only a talented player, but an engaging presence with a good sense of humour, Alastair wins over a crowd who were otherwise waiting impatiently for Walter and, as he promises a return with his band, we can only add that it won’t be soon enough.
The cheers start the second that Walter, looking healthy and happy, positively bounds on to the stage. He greets us with a typically laconic “let’s get this shindig on, what do you think?” before leading his band into a frantic I Can Tell. An old-school boogie complete with searing leads and squelchy keys, it makes good of the slogan on his T-shirt: “still too damn loud after all these years” and damn, the lead work he tears out at the song’s conclusion is nothing short of astonishing. What an entrance! Walter just blazes away, rocking out with a fire people half his age fail to muster, and we’re lost in the hurricane that he whips up.
And so it goes. Over the course of an epic show, Walter plays blues, he plays rock ‘n’ roll, he soothes us with the balm that is Follow You Back Home and he screeches like Buddy Guy channelling Muddy Waters. Along the way, he tells us the story of how he met his wife, Marie, still the love of his life and his muse; and he reminds us of the great blues man, B.B. King, whose soul he evokes on Say Goodbye To The Blues.
It’s electrifying, and he has the audience in thrall, not because he’s a virtuoso player (although he is), but because his heart and soul is visible in every raging chord and every howling solo. It doesn’t matter whether he’s rocking with all the force of a man who truly did meet a dark wanderer at the crossroads, as he does on a none-more-heavy Wanna Dance; or taking us through the hard blues of Walking In The Rain; everything the you see is Walter, nothing more or less, and his band, as fantastic as they are, can only keep up.
And, just when you think you’ve seen it all, Walter stops Say Goodbye To The Blues a few bars early, ambles to the front of the stage, and simply belts out the final refrain, with no microphone in sight. It’s a moment of vulnerability and a moment of love, and it says everything about Walter’s relationship with that wonderful, and much-missed man.
As a special treat, we even get a couple of guest spots. First up, Alastair makes a most welcome return to the stage, taking Joe Bonamassa’s spot on a blistering We’re All In This Together and, if the brilliantly sardonic I’m Worried recalls Neil Young’s equally cantankerous Piece Of Crap, then there’s a truly heart-warming on-stage reunion between Walter and Danny Bryant for It’s Going To Hurt Like Hell waiting in the wings. As Danny and Walter trade licks with obvious joy, the entire auditorium lights up, and it’s an incredibly special moment in an incredibly special night. We also get a number of tracks from Walter’s glorious Ride, including a heartfelt take on the title track (the story behind which still feels like a punch to the gut), a beautiful Follow You Back Home, and a particularly stunning Ghosts which, with its heavy blues underpinning and Floyd-esque guitar, stands as a new standout in Walter’s remarkable, thirty-album catalogue.
Walter Trout is truly a treasure. A master of the slow blues and a demon with a riff, he rocks harder than most, but always with passion and with soul. And when he does slow the pace, as he does on Follow You Back Home, it is with such heartfelt grace, that be draws the entire audience together. Throughout the show, he never gives less than his all and with Walter looking happier and healthier than ever, it is a simple joy to spend the evening in his company. To paraphrase B.B. King, who would surely forgive the conceit: may I live forever, but may Walter live forever and a day, because I’d hate to be here, when he passes away.
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