Bruce Willis
If It Don't Kill You, It Just Makes You Stronger

THE REVIEW

Yes, him, John McClane. Apparently, at a certain point, Bruce Willis felt the need to follow a path toward new frontiers, an alarm bell that tried to distance him from the risk of being labeled as the bald clone of Sylvester Stallone in American cinema. So, besides attempting cinematic experiences in the 90s with roles far from hand grenades and the usual face covered in wounds (some successful like "The Sixth Sense," others less so like "Color of Night"), the Hollywood macho also tried his hand at music.

Unlike some of his colleagues, the experience was not negative, and as evidence of this, there are two albums produced towards the end of the 80s made of solid R&B inspired by American music that colored the country around the mid-20th century. The first was "The Return Of Bruno" in 1987 and this "If It Don't Kill You, It Just Makes You Stronger" from 1989, whose title could easily come from one of his most famous films.

Ten mostly original tracks of very good quality, in which Bruce Willis demonstrates that he is also a capable singer. He may not be James Brown, but he's enjoyable to listen to, and the band accompanying him knows what they’re doing. His blues-inflected vocal style goes very well, not only with Demi Moore, but also with the brass-led arrangements of tracks like "Pep Talk", "Crazy Mixed-Up World", and "Here Comes Trouble Again", as well as with songs like "Soul Shake", more leaning towards soul, or leisurely tracks for making out in a neon-filled roadhouse with liters of beer on the counters ("Save The Last Dance For Me", "Blues For Mr. D", and in the latter Demi Moore also hums along). It's hard to believe that behind the microphone is that gruff, single-expression, die-hard man, and some parts of the album have nothing to envy from people like the Blues Brothers. He doesn’t write it all himself; he adds a few touches here and there to truly make the songs his own, and on some occasions pays homage to master artists of the genre ("Barnyard Boogie" is a cover by Louis Jordan). Robben Ford, on guitar and keyboards, is most likely the most valuable musician accompanying him in the creation of this musical detour. The arrangements are often his brainchild, and listening to the instrumental "Tenth Avenue Tango", it's easy to let the mind wander amidst the smoke of the venue—it almost feels like you can even see a few cowboy hats and plaid shirts scattered here and there.

Nothing groundbreaking, nothing enduring, but all in all, an interesting discovery for a pleasant listen. Hippy ya ye, motherfucker.