RSSB.B. King & Bobby Bland [extended]
- Live at the Regal [MCA, 1964]
- The Best of Bobby Bland [Duke, 1967]
- Blues Is King [BluesWay, 1967]
- 16 Greatest Hits [Galaxy, 1968]
- Completely Well [Bluesway, 1969] B
- Indianola Mississippi Seeds [ABC, 1970] B
- Live in Cook County Jail [ABC, 1971] A-
- B.B. King in London [ABC, 1971] B
- L.A. Midnight [ABC, 1972] B+
- Guess Who [ABC, 1972] B+
- The Best of B.B. King [ABC, 1973] A-
- His California Album [ABC/Dunhill, 1973] B
- To Know You Is to Love You [ABC, 1973] B-
- Dreamer [ABC/Dunhill, 1974] B+
- Friends [ABC, 1974] C
- Together for the First Time . . . Live [ABC/Dunhill, 1974] B+
- Get On Down With Bobby Bland [ABC, 1975] B+
- Lucille Talks Back [ABC, 1975] B+
- Together Again . . . Live [ABC, 1976] B-
- Reflections in Blue [ABC, 1977] B
- King Size [ABC, 1977] B-
- Midnight Believer [ABC, 1978] B
- I Feel Good, I Feel Fine [MCA, 1979] C-
- Take It Home [MCA, 1979] B+
- There Must Be a Better World Somewhere [MCA, 1981] B+
- The Best of B.B. King Volume 1 [Ace, 1986]
- The Best of Bobby Bland, Vol. 1 [MCA, 1990]
- The Best of B.B. King Volume One [Flair/Virgin, 1991] A
- The Anthology [Duke/Peacock/MCA, 1991] A-
- Blues Summit [MCA, 1993] B+
- Sad Street [Malaco, 1995]
- Deuces Wild [MCA, 1997] ***
- Greatest Hits Volume One: The Duke Recordings [MCA, 1998] A
- Greatest Hits Volume Two: The ABC-Dunhill/MCA Recordings [MCA, 1998] A-
- Live in Japan [MCA, 1999] ***
- Blues and Ballads [Star Trak, 1999] A-
- Riding With the King [Reprise, 2000] ***
- One Kind Favor [Geffen, 2008] *
- The Jungle [Ace, 2009]
See Also:
Consumer Guide Reviews:
B.B. King: Live at the Regal [MCA, 1964]
[CG70s: A Basic Record Library; CG80: Rock Library: Before 1980]
Bobby Bland: The Best of Bobby Bland [Duke, 1967]
[CG70s: A Basic Record Library]
B.B. King: Blues Is King [BluesWay, 1967]
B.B. King wasn't yet a legend in the rock world in 1967. But props from Eric Clapton and others meant he was getting there. His canonical LP was 1965's Live at the Regal, which showcased his songbook at Chicago's version of the Apollo. But this live album, cut at the same town's International Club, is so raw vocally and untrammeled instrumentally it cuts even that classic in retrospect. "Gambler's Blues," which King never recorded again, tears and saws rather than stings before it vows not to "crap out twice." Willie Nelson's not-yet-standard "Night Life" is all riled up. Bobby Forte's tenor sax adds a sour-mash kick throughout.
B.B. King: 16 Greatest Hits [Galaxy, 1968]
[CG80: Rock Library: Before 1980]
B.B. King: Completely Well [Bluesway, 1969]
A year ago I thought B.B. was the best live act there was and treasured several of his lps, notably Live at the Regal. Since then he has been transformed by astute management into the major attraction he should have been 10 years ago, and I hope he makes two million, but his music is not improving. There's no reason why someone as sweet-voiced as B.B. shouldn't cut his blues with ballads, but his ballad-singing is just plain schmaltzy--the taste that serves him so exquisitely in blues betrays him when he tries to be tasty. This record is good enough, especially the first side. But Live at the Regal is so much better. B
B.B. King: Indianola Mississippi Seeds [ABC, 1970]
I hate to sound like a fuddy-duddy, but the best moment here is unaccompanied--"Nobody Loves Me but My Mother," all 1:26 of it, with King singing and playing piano. B.B. King, that is--most of the piano here is by Carole King, who sounds fine, as do Leon Russell and Paul Harris. Even the strings and horns avoid disaster--B.B. goes pop with real dignity. But he's rarely brilliant, and the only songs on this record with a chance of being in his show a year from now are "Chains and Things" and Leon Russell's "Hummingbird," hooked on the deathless line "She's little and she loves me." I mean, what good does it do to perform that kind of tripe with dignity? B
B.B. King: Live in Cook County Jail [ABC, 1971]
This begins inauspiciously, with introductions and a thrown-away "Every Day I Have the Blues" (compare Live at the Regal and weep), and ends dubiously, with the sappy show-closer "Please Accept My Love." In between B.B. socks home old hits as familiar as "Sweet Sixteen" and as worthy as "Darlin' You Know I Love You" with a tough intensity he rarely brings to the studio. I prefer the horn arrangements on the Kent originals, but the unpredictable grit with which he snaps off the guitar parts makes up for any lost subtlety. A-
B.B. King: B.B. King in London [ABC, 1971]
Overlooking Alexis Korner's acoustic boogie, this encounter with Brit second-liners (famed blues devotee Ringo Starr is the big catch) and L.A. session stars is substantial stuff. "Caldonia" and "Ain't Nobody Home" are more than that. But rock with a steady roll it doesn't. Maybe Klaus Voorman, listed on bass, knows why. B
B.B. King: L.A. Midnight [ABC, 1972]
Hey, I've got an idea--how about sending B. into the studio to do a blues album? We could bring in a tuba like Taj Mahal, hire some decent rhythm players this time, call up a coupla good white guitarists--B.'ll cut the shit out of them, of course, but it can't hurt. He's got a great new iceman-cometh song, he's always good for a jam or two, and if we have to we can always do "Sweet Sixteen" again. Roots, get back, it's a take. B+
B.B. King: Guess Who [ABC, 1972]
Bluesy soul records aren't getting any easier to come by, and who am I to complain about one with the great B.B. King contributing guitar parts? "It Takes a Young Girl" and "Better Lovin' Man," which sound like standards that somehow passed me by, more than make up for the clumsy "Summer in the City" and the rereremade "Five Long Years." But the singer obviously isn't getting any younger, and when he begs comparison with Lorraine Ellison and Howard Tate on "You Don't Know Nothing About Love" he's risking more than he ought to. Which is admirable, in a way. B+
B.B. King: The Best of B.B. King [ABC, 1973]
King is human and then some--never less than intelligent but often less than inspired, especially with words. So I'm delighted at how many high points this captures--"Caldonia" and "Ain't Nobody Home" from London. "Nobody Loves Me but My Mother" (marred by unfortunate engineering tricks) from Indianola, two classic blues, and "The Thrill Is Gone," one of his greatest ballads. And though I still find "Why I Sing the Blues" self-serving and "Hummingbird" silly, they sure make classy filler. A-
Bobby Bland: His California Album [ABC/Dunhill, 1973]
With Bland's old label, Duke, which ABC purchased partly to get at his contract, you cut an LP when you score a single. This is a tragically short-sighted way to treat the greatest pure singer in blues, but it does help guarantee that at least one cut will connect instantaneously, like "That Did It" on Touch of the Blues or "Chains of Love" on Spotlighting the Man. The pop moves here are no more arbitrary than the ones Bland has always gone for. But whether he's sticking to Duke material or inserting a growl into a Barry Goldberg song, he puts his stamp on nothing. B
B.B. King: To Know You Is to Love You [ABC, 1973]
The Stevie Wonder-composed title track isn't blues or even soul--it's one of those slow, funky grooves that smolders along for minutes before you notice you're dripping from the heat, and it almost justifies the lame idea of sending King into Sigma Sound with Dave Crawford. Elsewhere King sings indifferent songs sincerely, recites a poem he wrote, and plays his guitar when he gets the chance. B-
Bobby Bland: Dreamer [ABC/Dunhill, 1974]
On their second try, producer Steve Barri and arranger Michael Omartian pull out the pop stops, and while the result isn't too long on conviction it does have its own ersatz character. Refabricated intros worthy of Three Dog Night, prefabricated songs worthy of Bobby Bland, and a woman named Yolanda who leaves Bobby "in this wilderness with no money down"--the wilderness being Charlestown, South Carolina, and Yolanda's Pygmalion being the same guy who wrote "My Maria" and "Shambala." B+
B.B. King: Friends [ABC, 1974]
If Dave Crawford really wants to turn B.B. into a major "contemporary" soul singer, he shouldn't make him sing Dave Crawford's songs. Best cut: the instrumental. C
Together for the First Time . . . Live [ABC/Dunhill, 1974]
This is my kind of exploitation--a commercial gimmick that gets two masters back to their form. An honorable document it is, too, especially Bland's part. King's voice and guitar have both been more searing, the latter within recent memory, and though I'd rather hear him singing familiar old blues than mediocre new pop, the classic material does resist renewal, which is why he and Bland do so much pop these days. Sometimes, too, the joking interaction sounds a little uncomfortable--almost as if they're rivals or something. B+
Bobby Bland: Get On Down With Bobby Bland [ABC, 1975]
Despite the funky title, this is Bland's country album, and while it won't turn him into Ray Charles, it's a modest success--he gets more suitable (even funky) arrangements form Nashvillians Don Gant and Ron Chancey than Charles gets from Sid Feller. On side one he sounds completely at (or down) home stealing songs from Merle Haggard and Charlie Rich. Overdisc he seems a little ill at ease reassuring a virgin with bom-bom-boms, but wouldn't you? B+
B.B. King: Lucille Talks Back [ABC, 1975]
In which King expresses himself by (a) following "Have Faith" with "Everybody Lies a Little" (b) covering Lowell Fulson, Z.Z. Hill, and Ann Peebles (c) conversing with his guitar and (d) producing himself. Personal to Dave Crawford: listen hard to those horns. B+
Bobby Bland and B.B. King: Together Again . . . Live [ABC, 1976]
Like they say, never again. Or anyway, live and let live. "Let the Good Times Roll" comes out of the box with notable snap, but you're heard better versions of these tunes by one B. or the other. and if you haven't, you should make it a project. B-
Bobby Bland: Reflections in Blue [ABC, 1977]
Blues is an art of narrow margins, and ABC's production honchos push this too far--their two songs are bores, and every time Michael Omartian touches a keyboard or a chart the record dies a little. Not a lot--I really believe he's doing his best. But though there are good moments on all of the seven remaining tracks, only "I Intend to Take Your Place"--by Jimmy Lewis, a hidden treasure of contemporary blues and soul songwriting--belongs in Bland's canon. B
B.B. King: King Size [ABC, 1977]
Old Chess man Esmond Edwards acquits himself with honor--the charts are sharp, the sidemen prime, and most of the songs good ones. But the mildness of the two Muddy Waters covers reminds us that King conceived his style as progressive from Muddy's Delta-Chicago gutbucket, and the segue from "Mother Fuyer," the dirtiest traditional blues in the repertoire, to Bill Withers and Brook Benton is disorienting rather than revelatory. B-
B.B. King: Midnight Believer [ABC, 1978]
In which B.B. and the Crusaders cut room for a party between sincere schlock and pseudo purism. The King's voice hasn't regained its edge and his guitar is used mostly to decorate Joe Sample's tunes, but this would rate as a mini-comeback if it included another song as good as "Never Make a Move Too Soon," the only one on the album that Sample didn't help write. B
Bobby Bland: I Feel Good, I Feel Fine [MCA, 1979]
Then you must be on something--you don't even get to sing on that track. C-
B.B. King: Take It Home [MCA, 1979]
The Crusaders' songwriting doesn't peak the way it did on B.B.'s 1978 collaboration with the L.A. topcats, but that's OK because it doesn't dip either. The Crusaders jam, B.B. jives and raps, and the result--give or take some background vocals and a few overworked horn charts--is the topcat equivalent of the kind of wonderful blues-bar album Bruce Iglauer of Alligator has been getting out of less accomplished musicians throughout the '70s. A small delight. B+
B.B. King: There Must Be a Better World Somewhere [MCA, 1981]
King's seldom been terrible, and when in 1978 he decided to stop trying for AM ballads and disco crossovers and move on up to nightclub funk he started making good albums again. With songs by Doc & Dr. (Pomus and ace sideman John) and a band anchored by the spectacularly unflappable Pretty Purdie, this is the third time in a row he's topped himself. The voice is no longer exquisite and the licks might as well be copyrighted, but King's standard is classic. Of course, it's also predictable--though the material reprises the timeworn truisms (heavy on party blues and perfidious women) with palpable enthusiasm, only "Victim" stands much chance of entering the repertoire. But if this were the first King album you'd ever hear you'd make damn sure it wasn't the last. B+
B.B. King: The Best of B.B. King Volume 1 [Ace, 1986]
[CG80: Rock Library: Before 1980]
Bobby Bland: The Best of Bobby Bland, Vol. 1 [MCA, 1990]
[CG80: Rock Library: Before 1980]
B.B. King: The Best of B.B. King Volume One [Flair/Virgin, 1991]
Like Louis Armstrong before him, King has evolved into American totem and international ambassador, so reliable that he obscures his own formal audacity. Since he concocted his music rather than inventing it whole, mutating Mississippi seeds into an all-inclusive synthesis he no doubt conceived during his brilliant DJing career, it's hard to keep in mind how startling and triumphant he once was. This man was an r&b ruler in the '50s because he could do it all--not just electrify Robert and Lonnie Johnson simultaneously, but croon and growl and split the air while writing standards almost as fast as Willie Dixon. Anyone who thinks he's too smooth can kiss his ass. A
Bobby Bland: The Anthology [Duke/Peacock/MCA, 1991]
Since it costs the same per track as the matched 1998 Duke and Dunhill Greatest Hits collections I recommended back in the day, my review is mostly discographical bookkeeping. Although it includes all of the Duke disc's tracks, it goes rogue on Bland's Dunhill years while retaining the half dozen or so essentials. But in the wake of the big man's death, more is more, and by doubling the Duke picks, most of them uptempo, this accesses some major work--"Little Boy Blue" and "Ain't Doin' Too Bad" discoveries for me, "Poverty" and "Ain't Nothing You Can Do" (!!) conspicuous omissions from GH. So if you're just getting started, it's probably the right choice. If you aren't, do the math yourself. Docked a notch on general principles. A-
B.B. King: Blues Summit [MCA, 1993]
The artist's flair for the duet is such that the most arresting solo here comes when B.B. is driven to new heights by his favorite collaborator, the B.B. King Orchestra. And because he doesn't want to give away his come-ons yet (or else doesn't have any), he sounds more comfortable with the men than the gals. But that's not to say the likes of Robert Cray and Etta James and John Lee Hooker aren't extra added attractions. Or that they don't inspire him to focus--which is really all he needs. B+
Bobby Bland: Sad Street [Malaco, 1995]
B.B. King: Deuces Wild [MCA, 1997]
Best cameos of an albumful: Tracy Chapman, Mick Jagger, Eric Clapton ("The Thrill Is Gone," "Paying the Cost To Be the Boss," "Rock Me Baby"). ***
Bobby Bland: Greatest Hits Volume One: The Duke Recordings [MCA, 1998]
His strapping young voice set apart by his trademarked gargling snort as well as a falsetto he claims he found when he had his tonsils out, Bland was never more puissant than when knuckling under the broad thumb of Don Robey, the label owner (they hadn't invented executive producers yet) who surfaces in parentheses as song-copywriter Deadric Malone. "Turn On Your Love Light," "Farther up the Road," "I Pity the Fool"--you'd think they'd always been there, so familiar are their tropes and tunes. But they were tailored to a specific voice and market, defining upwardly mobile blues in a moment when r&b was wide open. Later Bland would lean into the soul beat of "These Hands (Small but Mighty)" and the pop-Latin lilt of "Call on Me," incite harmonettes into chirping "Yield not to temptation." But postblues are his home ground. And most of the time, Jabo Starks is his drummer. A
Bobby Bland: Greatest Hits Volume Two: The ABC-Dunhill/MCA Recordings [MCA, 1998]
Insofar as it's now dimly believed that blues and soul were the same thing, kinda, perhaps I can rescue B.B. King's perpetual opposite number from the limbo of name recognition by promoting him as a great soul voice. After all, he did sing gospel before moving down, up, or over to Beale Street, and by the time mean old Don Robey sold him up the river, he was ready for anything--soul, lounge, country, disco, B.B. duets. Be it an aab gem like "Goin' Down Slow" or generic gold like "Yolanda" or a pop gewgaw like "Love To See You Smile," he claims these songs with his suave baritone and trademarks them with his unique growl. Never played an instrument, or danced much. Never had to. Proves sophistication has nothing to do with diplomas. A-
B.B. King: Live in Japan [MCA, 1999]
Cut 1971--fresher than London, not quite as ripe as Cook County Jail ("Japanese Boogie," "Niji Baby"). ***
Bobby Bland: Blues and Ballads [Star Trak, 1999]
Even though the parent corp owns Duke-Peacock, where Don Robey held Bland in servitude while compelling him to record Robey-copyrighted crap by the fictional Deadric Malone, Bland's catalogue is the usual mess. I estimate that anyone who chooses to own MCA's two early-'90s Duke double-CDs, I Pity the Fool and Turn On Your Love Light, can add the one-volume Greatest Hits Volume Two: The ABC-Dunhill/MCA Recordings and stop there. I also estimate that the use value of his most renowned original-release album, Two Steps From the Blues, is significantly diminished by all the duplications on almost any Duke-era best-of one might chance upon. But this surprisingly intelligent 16-track comp is different. Half Duke, half MCA-etc., it showcases the Bland I've never trusted: the schlock adept, the midtempo crooner-groaner who dug Texas-sized horn sections and was fine with strings, the lover who played in the same league as jazz status symbol Billy Eckstine and citified rivals Lou Rawls and Brook Benton. And it convinces me I prefer Bland to any of them. Never flaunting his virtuosity like Eckstine or conflating smarm and cool like Rawls or clinging to Nat Cole's coattails like Benton, Bland begins by nailing two Malone songs too dull for anyone else to sing, reminds you what a mother he is with "Ain't Nothing You Can Do," and then goes cornball commando, claiming a Malone trifle Aretha Franklin took over in 1969 as well as "If Loving You Is Wrong," "Georgia on My Mind," and "I've Got to Use My Imagination." Tossing in the occasional signature growl, he relies on his midrange like a veteran fastballer working the corners and never cracks the ice as he skates the groove. Insofar as these songs can be killed, he does the deed. A-
B.B. King/Eric Clapton: Riding With the King [Reprise, 2000]
Tireless teacher spurs genius student ("Riding With the King," "Hold On I'm Coming"). ***
B.B. King: One Kind Favor [Geffen, 2008]
Other mainstays of 82-year-old's meticulous retro combo: steadfast Jim Keltner and mercurial Dr. John ("The World Gone Wrong," "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean"). *
B.B. King: The Jungle [Ace, 2009]
Although five of its dozen selections had attained the lower reaches of the R&B chart twixt '65 and '67, few noticed this slapdash piece of product when the Bihari brothers' L.A.-based indie put it on the market. But as rereleased by Ace in 2009, it exemplifies how great artists' lesser work comes to feel more precious when they're gone. Otherwise unavailable highlights include the poverty-fighting title track, a short and sweet "Ain't Nobody's Business," and a "Beautician's Blues" that sics said blues on said beautician. A guy his ma called Riley plays guitar on every track.