The title Survivor Blues carries considerably more weight when Walter Trout uses it.
Its predecessor, 2015's aptly named Battle Scars, was the sound of a man processing an ordeal that very nearly killed him. After years of declining health, Trout suffered liver failure and underwent a transplant in 2014, emerging from the experience with an album that often felt like an exorcism. He had quite literally lived to tell the tale, and Battle Scars was where he told it.
Four years later, Survivor Blues finds him getting back to business. This time there is no grand autobiographical statement and, unusually for Trout, no original material at all. The album consists entirely of covers, drawing from bluesmen both famous and obscure. Elmore James and B.B. King sit alongside Trout's former employer John Mayall, while lesser-known figures such as Sunnyland Slim and Luther "Snakeboy" Johnson get their share of the spotlight. Trout deliberately avoided the obvious standards, digging deeper into the blues songbook for material he could make his own.
And make no mistake, this is very much a Walter Trout record.
His guitar playing is, as ever, phenomenal. Trout has always been a fiery player, but sheer speed has never been the point. His solos have shape and direction, building tension rather than simply filling space, and Survivor Blues captures every bend, scrape and sustained note beautifully. The production is warm, spacious and remarkably clear. Turn it up and you can practically feel the air moving around the amplifier.
His voice may be even more impressive considering everything his body has been through. It remains soulful, clear and forceful, with a roughness around the edges that suits the material. The whole album rocks hard without wandering far from the blues, and Trout sounds completely at home whether he's grinding through a heavy electric number or easing back into something more reflective.
He's also happy to share the room. On "Goin' Down to the River", The Doors guitarist Robby Krieger joins him on slide, and their contrasting styles turn the track into a genuine conversation between two veteran players. Trout has nothing left to prove as a guitarist, and there is an ease to the way he allows other musicians into the spotlight.
The album really catches fire around its middle. John Mayall's "Nature's Disappearing" becomes a magnificent slow blues, with Trout delivering a solo that seems to produce another idea every time you expect it to resolve. It keeps building without losing the thread, one phrase leading naturally into another until you stop wondering where it's going and simply follow.
"Red Sun" burns with the same intensity as its title, while "Something Inside of Me" finds Trout digging particularly deep vocally. Taken together, the three songs form the emotional heart of the record. This is where Survivor Blues stops feeling like a collection of well-chosen covers and starts revealing why Trout wanted to sing these particular songs.
That's the key to the whole album. Cover records can easily become exercises in taste, musicians showing you what sits on their shelves and demonstrating how well they can reproduce it. Trout approaches these songs as material he has lived with and can now inhabit. The choices may come from other writers, but the wear and tear in the performances belongs to him.
There is plenty of darkness in these songs. The blues wouldn't be much use without it. Loss, frustration, fear and mortality have always been part of the language, and after what Trout has endured, none of those subjects require much acting. Yet Survivor Blues is anything but a miserable record. It is loud, warm and frequently exhilarating. Even at its most somber, there is pleasure in hearing Trout and his band dig into this music.
That may be the most convincing sign of recovery. Battle Scars needed to confront what had happened to him. Survivor Blues finds Trout back inside the music that sustained him long before any of it happened, playing with the appetite of somebody who knows exactly what it means to still be here.
The blues has always performed this strange bit of alchemy, taking life's sadness, fear, anger and frustration and turning them into something people can gather around, play loud and even celebrate. Some call it therapy. Some call it catharsis. Some call it the blues. Walter Trout calls it his life.
GENRE: Blues rock
RELEASE DATE: January 25, 2019
PRODUCED BY: Eric Corne
LABEL: Provogue Records
RATING: 7/10