Chuck Berry
Chuck
Dualtone
Three and a half stars
When Chuck Berry died, at the age of 90, in March, the widespread response was one of enormous respect, if not necessarily warm affection. True pioneers tend to be uncompromising characters – and if one man had earned the right to indulge in what became known as “rock and roll behaviour”, it was Berry. He did pretty much invent rock ‘n’ roll, after all. And he kept on playing it.
The hugely influential singer was still performing well into his 80s, although his last studio album emerged way back in 1979. Only when ill-health curtailed his live work, in 2014, did he belatedly return to recording. The result offers a surprisingly intimate glimpse into a complicated soul.
"Darlin', your father's growing older, each year," Berry sings on the emotional Darlin', a duet with his daughter, Ingrid Berry. In fact, Chuck is very much a family project. Ingrid plays harmonica, too, while his son and grandson add guitar to Wonderful Woman, the record's rollicking opener, which lauds his wife of 68 years, Themetta.
The whole album is dedicated to Mrs Berry, in fact, who offered invaluable quality control during his earlier recording days, rating each session afterwards.
Themetta’s filter clearly worked well while Chuck was in production, as this is a fun, varied but concise 10-track collection. The tone is refreshingly loose and even sounds improvised in places, although some of these compositions have been waiting decades to be recorded.
"Stay up all night, writing songs," he sings on the jaunty 3/4 Time (Enchiladas). "I know it ain't healthy, but somehow I keep going on."
It would not greatly surprise you if this savvy operator actually had wanted to release Chuck posthumously, knowing that interest in his work would then peak.
To bolster that attention, famous fans contribute. Rage Against the Machine's Tom Morello and the retro-rocker Nathaniel Rateliff jam on Big Boys, a timeless Berry boogie. And brilliant young blues star Gary Clark Jr adds stylish riffs to the aforementioned Wonderful Woman.
That track is nicely reminiscent of Berry's enduringly cool You Never Can Tell, from 1964, and there are several other references to his canon here. Lady B Goode reworks the 1958 classic Johnny B Goode, this time from Thematta's viewpoint, although the cod-Caribbean accent on Jamaica Moon – a nod to 1956's Havana Moon – is regrettable.
Then again, Chuck was never perfect and this is a worthy finale to one of the great music careers.
artslife@thenational.ae
