B.B. King

Blues on the Bayou (MCA)
by Jon Sarre

He seems like a real nice guy and all, but for my money, “The King of the Blues” only really plays like two songs. There’s the one where he sings about how his woman mistreats him or how the Caddy needs a new alternator or whatever, and then there’s the song he doesn’t sing anything at all on, but just sensually strokes ol’ Lucille in all those sweet places (I believe thoughts like that used to get Stevie Ray Vaughan all hot). C’mon now, here’s a guy who tours with more horn players than women he’s bedded (and, according to his bio, B.B.’s put up Wilt Chamberlain-like numbers in the boudoir); songwriting’s not so much the issue as arrangement!

On this outing, even the orchestrations seem pretty damn comfortable, just like Mistah Riley hisself pickin’ an’ grinnin’ on the front cover. Familiar is the word for this stuff and B.B. King and his two songs is certainly that. Hell, the man is an American institution, even has his own restaurant in Memphis. What I wanna know is, Who sent this record to this magazine?