BB King’s Ultimate Jam: 45 Years Later Completely Well Still “Thrills”
Most folks know BB King’s “The Thrill is Gone.” It’s a blues song for people who don’t know the blues, a minor-key ode to solemnity and lamentation with transcendent appeal. But let me tell you something else the “The Thrill is Gone.” It’s not even the best song on BB’s 1969 release Completely Well. It’s probably not even the bestballad. That’s a title designated for “No Good,” a slow-burner featuring some of King’s most assured vocals. His voice almost growls, a marked counterpoint to his “twinging” guitar, an instrument that King plays with equal parts ferocity and beauty, pinching notes, leaving space, and lingering in those moments of indecisiveness between feeling blue and feeling alive. King has lots of help on this record, mainly from quite possibly the best set of studio musicians ever assembled to play the blues (and to think most weren’t even “blues” players per se). Hugh McCracken’s second guitar gives the songs a pulse and rhythm, and his frantic, nervous soloing matches well with King’s measured precision. His stinging riffs on “Cryin’ Won’t Help You” set a manic pace that flows directly into “You’re Mean,” a song that pulls back each time you think it might just boil over. Credit Paul Harris, whose tinkering electric piano pull back the intensity with lazy funk that might make Allen Toussaint proud. The star, however, is Gerald “Fingers” Jemmott, a stalwart of the late 60s and early 70s soul scene, playing with the likes of Wilson Pickett and Aretha Franklin. His bass line on “You’re Losin’ Me” carries the melody and weaves in and out of the punchy horns and the electric piano of Harris. Likewise, his persistent, cascading bass line anchors the groove on “Cryin’ Won’t Help You.” Herbie Lovelle’s drums are the perfect companion to Jemmott. His sloshing hi-hats on “Confessin’ the Blues” give the verses an extra drive and swing. His tricky off-beat snare on “So Excited” lays the foundation for McCracken’s slinky guitar and Harris’ organ, and the way he chooses to crash on his ride cymbal assures that the drums always complement and never override, reinforce, but never overwhelm. Lovelle lays into it when he needs to, but he plays with restraint. The jams never become an excuse to punish the listener with noise, but rather to get him or her to relish in rhythm, to settle into an insistent groove while guitars fly in from every direction. This album insists on groove. King would never ever be this funky, and while blues purists have turned their noses up at the album, it is, I believe, King’s masterwork; an album worth pursuing 45 years later as the world’s most famous blues musician enters his twilight years and leaves all the thrills behind him.
Written by Vince Meserko, host of the Jookhouse at 6 PM on Saturdays.