Chris Rea Dancing Down The Stony Road, Mortality, and Inspiration in the Face of Fear

I've never been one for paying for full price albums. In an earlier blog I talked about how I was a vulture for bargains. However, this occasion was an exception. I must have been flush at the time - (perhaps my student loan had just gone in!) - because to spend £13.99 on a new release album was unheard of for me unless it said Paul Weller on the front. Maybe I was intrigued by the front cover - that can often happen. Maybe my interest in Chris Rea from an early age spilt over into an out-of-wallet experience? I had always loved his classic hits, however contrived some may accuse them of being: Road To Hell, Josephine, Down On The Beach, and the amazing annual treat that is Driving Home For Christmas. Whatever happened on that rainy day in 2002, I came home with a copy of Dancing Down The Stony Road, his new double album release that just as well may never have happened.

In 2001 Rea was struck down with a severe case of Pancreatitis, later revealed to have been cancerous. The operation that he went in for only assured him a 50% chance of survival. He has stated in interviews since that he swore to himself before the operation that if he survived he would return to his blues roots and pack in the commercial rock business. Needless to say the man survived, and Dancing Down The Stony Road - in my opinion, the best album of his entire career (including Road To Hell) - was the resulting masterpiece. I know I probably overuse that word in my reviews, but I swear to you that here it is most apt. Chris Rea's obsession with the Delta blues is heavily prevalent in this album. He uses his exceptional slide guitar playing to great effect, his vocals are deep and charred (emphasising the blues themes in his writing), and the production raw and sparse. It is a late night album for sure; one for the whiskey drinkers and insomniacs, or, preferably both.

The opening track, Easy Rider, is an ode to the drugs that eased his agony whilst lying in hospital contemplating a potential meeting with the reaper: "Well now come on easy rider/Turn this screaming fire down low/Yeah come on easy rider/Pull this pain and let it go." Stony Road is a haunting paranoia, Dancing The Blues Away an airy waltz, and Catfish Girl a lesson for any aspiring slide guitarists - so good and authentic sounding that it could have been written on the ranch in 1890. Burning Feet is a cool groove, Slow Dance a piano led number that leads into a slide guitar frenzy, and Segway a very traditional instrumental take on the Delta blues. By now you should be feeling like you are watching over the cotton fields with the sun going down, cigarette and whiskey in hand. Mississippi 2 is, again, very traditional with a fascinating banjo/harmonica duel, So Lonely an eerie and uncertain plea from the subconscious, and the final track on the first side, Heading For The City, a jazzy, laid back chagrin in which Rea's morbid state of mind exposes itself: "Roll that dice/Say that prayer/Light a candle for me/When you get there." He had practically handed himself over to the angels, which makes this music that he created, with the hindsight of survival, even more engrossing.

Side two begins with the delightful ballad Ride On, When The Good Lord Talked To Jesus is a very deep, agonizing self assessment ("When the good Lord talked to Jesus/I guess I ain't what he had in mind"), and Qualified a dark, semi-religious blues akin to the stuff on Bob Dylan's Time Out Of Mind (previously reviewed in the blog). Sun Is Rising is another moody, slide guitar ramble, Someday My Peace Will Come a beautiful longing for one's sanctuary, and Got To Be Moving On a Spaghetti Western style chiller - it is short of only the gunshots during the shootout to put you right there, sat in the middle as the anxious wait for the draw lingers. Ain't Going Down This Way is another slide guitar/harmonica face-off, Changing Times an unusual upbeat and optimistic jaunt for the second side, and penultimate track, The Hustler, a great insight into the healing mind of this ailing songwriter: "Time to get up, make a move/Put the brain in gear, cut the groove."

The final track, Give That Girl A Diamond, is a wonderful love song, once again reminiscent of Bob Dylan, particularly his track Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands. Rea has absolutely excelled himself with this record. I think it is special because it is almost his own obituary; it is funny how a genuine brush with death can inspire the most beautiful art. At times it is very, very dark, but somehow inspiring and uplifting. Give the old boy a chance and give this gem a listen.