Larry Carlton
Sapphire Blue

THE REVIEW

"Music can heal. It can make the spirit soar or it can simply give respite to the weary traveler. And sometimes you just gotta sing the Blues".

Dear, old Larry. Dear, old Blues. Old friends reunited.

I got to know you as a great session man of the seventies, leaving your mark on the most sophisticated AOR records of that era. Most of the guitar solos in "The Royal Scam", "Aja", "Gaucho" by Steely Dan, and "The Nightfly", Donald Fagen's solo debut, are yours.

Then, as my tastes slowly shifted towards jazz, I found you again as a hero of the sunniest and most crystalline guitar fusion, with a handful of records made in the early eighties, works that would be heavily copied by a legion of guitarists, especially "Strikes Twice" and "Sleepwalk". Cult musician, exquisite touch on the six-string, animated by contagious enthusiasm, solid optimism, and even that touch of naivety that has always characterized the luckiest children of "mamma America".

Afterwards, our paths began to diverge, and you settled into a refined and luxurious smooth jazz, most of the time quite harmless, though dotted with small delights ("Alone But Never Alone", "Last Night"). Always, and in any case, a cut above the banality that spread in the fusion world of those years.

The attack, the thug who shot you in the throat, the long rehabilitation period, kept you away from the stage, Larry. But those who thought you would never play again were terribly wrong. Slowly, like a cat with nine lives, like all great artists, you reinvented yourself from scratch: collaborations with Lee Ritenour and Steve Lukather and finally, returning to your first love, the Blues.

And here is "Sapphire Blue", from 2004. A simple formula, what does it take? A refined but gritty guitar in the foreground, a vigorous horn section behind (arranged by the trusty Jim Horn), and in between the misty and liquid sound of the electric piano and the Hammond organ. A rough saxophone caress now and then? It’s possible. Terry McMillan's harmonica as the leader's solo alter ego? Essential.

The whole album is pervaded by this "relaxed tension", pregnant with "hot thrills" that only the truest and most raw blues can provide. Friday night stuff ("Friday Night Shuffle"), that quickly gets into your system without demanding too much effort, but in its genre, top-notch stuff. You don't think here, you sweat ("Night Sweats").

The immaculate touch of the inseparable Gibson ES-335, the influence of your declared master B.B. King, just a sprinkle of jazz here and there, aided by Billy Kilson's drumming ("Slightly Dirty", "7 For You"), finally the worthy closing with the two-step of guitar-harmonica in "Take Me Down". Executive class and good taste to space: welcome back Larry, finally with an album worthy of the great musician you are.

And what an emotion, seeing you in concert again last year, a sixty-something kid with an eternal smile etched on your face, along with the other guitar hero Robben Ford. What a satisfaction, pointing you out to younger friends, still incredulous, while you improvised alone on the notes of "Falling Leaves", and being able to say: "He was my hero..."

He is still my hero...

A hundred of these albums, Larry.