Gary Moore
Old New Ballads Blues

Collected in this 2006 album of his is the musical dimension of Gary Moore. That is, the adult one—since the young Moore, instead, went through many different stages: progressive, fusion, hard and classic rock... and I'm sure I'm forgetting something. The Old in the title stands for his covers of the masters, black, from the fifties and sixties, plus those of their first white “revisers” from the sixties onwards (Peter Green above all).

The New refers to his own compositions, oscillating between muscular rock blues, long and melancholy ballads about abandonment, and stellar instrumentals where the guitar sings, unchallenged. Ballads Blues, at last, are the two styles between which the guitarist's compositions oscillate.

The formula is the most classic of Gary’s records: ten blues-based tracks, including three covers. The only thing slightly different from his usual menu is the presence of an unusual number of slow tracks, half of the total if not more.

Let’s line up these latter ones: there’s “You Know My Love” by master Dixon, almost a mid-tempo, absolutely classic, but Moore’s guitar in dazzling form ennobles the central part of the song, launching into lively excursions along the fretboard. In “I’ll Play the Blues” it goes on for three minutes with just voice and electric piano; the guitar arrives mid-way, calm and àge, classy.

“No Reason to Cry” is slightly less blues, almost a ballad. Even at a slow pace, Moore decides to make his Fender bleed, launching into sinewy, boxing solos, a pleasure for ears and for the gut. An effort the artist spares himself on “Flesh and Blood”, this time a real ballad, almost a lullaby; simple lyrics, enveloping Leslie effects on the arpeggios... a marvel. Another slow blues, softened by Don Airey’s organ pad, is called “Gonna Rain Today”.

Among the faster episodes there’s “Cut It Out”, a mid-tempo instrumental with the usual priceless quirk of brutally mistreating his Fender: the fierceness of the strumming is absolute, the endless and satisfying wave of vibratos. Then there’s “All Your Love”, by Otis Rush, a lefty from Mississippi who taught many how it’s done.

“Ain’t Nobody” is the most “commercial”, a fairly predictable rock blues, but the lead guitar barking in the breaks is anything but—sparkling and effective like no other. “Midnight Blues” is just what the title promises: a nocturnal, velvety, and warm blues, the Gibson first nibbling licks around the vocals, then left alone to quietly paint. “Done Somebody Wrong” finally is the wah-wah pedal festival, a blues by Elmore James, measured and syncopated, over which the protagonist’s slide thimble evolves, busy polishing the bronzed steel of the six strings as they should be.

I go through phases with Moore… and when I dive back into his music, I think great loves never end, and I miss him a lot. Gary all about the blues… what’s the point in writing it: *****.