Robben Ford’s 2021 solo album, Pure, is arguably the pinnacle of his storied career, a lucid, wholly instrumental distillation of the technique he’s used so effectively in his work with the Yellowjackets, Miles Davis, and the band he led backing Chicago blues icon, Charlie Musselwhite.
The versatile guitar hero impresses mightily on Two Shades of Blue as well, this despite dividing his time between singing and playing. In his best moments here, in fact, Ford doesn’t just erase the line between blues and jazz; he draws a whole other one altogether and, in doing so, he deftly interweaves eclectic stylistic elements such as the funk of “Make My Own Weather.”
A statement of purpose, if only because Ford chooses to sing the cut, his devil-may-care vocal delivery is right in keeping with the salty horns of the band, a brass section comprised of saxophonist Paul Booth, trumpeter Ryan Quigley, and trombonist Trevor Mires, those musicians among the roster of accompanists curated in London after Robben’s move to England.
But Two Shades of Blue also features bassist Darryl Jones (Miles Davis, Rolling Stones), keyboardist Larry Goldings (John Scofield), and Gary Husband (John McLaughlin) on drums, a trio that adds panache to the instrumentals sequenced in order at the end of these eight tracks. And it is those three numbers that ultimately leave a favorable overall impression of this long player.
Until then, tracks such as “Perfect Illusion” skirt dangerously close to homogeneity. Not surprisingly, Ford isn’t quite as assured as a singer as he is a guitarist, and on that cut, he sounds like he’s enunciating too carefully for his own good. On this cover of John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy,” too, Robben sounds oddly disengaged from the song’s conflicting emotions.
Given the early concept of this album as a tribute to Jeff Beck, Ford might’ve enacted a de facto homage to the late British guitar hero by recruiting one or more of the latter’s past vocal collaborators. Still, neither Joss Stone nor Beth Hart would emote more credibly than Robben on what is close to a straight blues, “Black Night.”
Ford embroiders upon his matter-of-fact reading of the lyrics, with soloing so raw it turns positively cathartic. And the cold stop, buttressed by horns, renders the performance even more emotional. So dramatic is that arrangement that it becomes an ideal setup for the bittersweet tone of the title song, where the intensity of Ford’s guitar playing builds (even as the horns have become a bit intrusive by this point).
Proceeding directly from this selection, the climactic triad of tracks sans voice essentially divides Two Shades of Blue in half. As a result, repeated listenings of the LP might begin with the atmospheric “The Fire Flute,” where Wendell Henry’s percussion imbues the performance with both swing and swagger. “The Light Fandango” is of a piece with that selection too, as ever-so-slight hints of syncopation reinforce the fluidity of the aforementioned four-man ensemble.
Hearing Goldings’ abandoned organ solo, it’s clear there’s more than a little telepathic communication going on here, so much so that this clutch of tunes morphs into a seamless suite by the time “Feeling’s Mutual” concludes. And when this near five minutes ends with the horns’ emphatic punctuation–where multi-faceted keyboardist Goldings once again acts as the de facto hero of the proceedings–Robben Ford posits his most articulate statement of all on Two Shades Of Blue.
