Sonic truth

Ronnie Earl's fingers do the talking

by Bill Kisliuk

Playing a guitar is like telling the truth. You never have to worry about repeating the same thing if you told the truth.

-- B.B. King

Many are called to the world of blues guitar, but few are chosen to stand above the three-chord hordes with a truly singular touch, a sound that is identifiable in just a few notes.

Ronnie Earl Horvath is one of the chosen. The first shimmering licks on his new CD, The Colour of Love, are inimitably Earl's pearls: a hard-socking soul groove struts forth, and at a crisp stop-time turn-around he sneaks up with a crystal-clear descending run, the notes curling and tumbling around one another like the waters of a creek bounding down the mountain. Pure, natural, and as pretty as it gets.

Among the growing battalion of blues guitarists Earl is one of the very few -- Robert Cray and Stevie Ray Vaughan are others of the same generation -- who have the soul, the chops, and the notoriety to earn the allegiance of blues legends and lovers alike.

"My philosophy is to play with soul," says Earl, who displays lots of modesty and only a few choice words on the telephone from one of his tour stops in Italy. "Blues is the music with the most emotional life and spirituality. I think it's just . . . spirituality."

Coming off a European tour where he's played with giants B.B. King and Ray Charles, the 44-year-old Earl is bringing his all-instrumental quartet to the Rockport Rhythm & Blues Festival at Newport this weekend (alongside Aretha Franklin, Patti LaBelle, the Neville Bros., and NRBQ). He's also riding the crest of his new record.

The Colour of Love is something of a departure. Twenty years after his first shifts in the blues spotlight, Earl is finally recording for a major label. The Verve release comes after about a dozen outings for smaller independent blues labels, a few albums with Roomful of Blues, and cameos on releases by major-league blues talent from the Back Bay to LA.

But in other respects, Earl is simply taking another step in the path first marked by the 1994 release Language of the Soul (his Bullseye Blues debut). Ronnie's lean sound has gradually evolved across the Stratocaster spectrum from tough urban blues to melodic, urbane soul and jazz. Recent recordings and live dates are notable as much for his delicate handling of jazz and Latin themes as for his homages to the Chicago blues heavies he styled himself after when he first picked up the guitar in his 20s: Freddie King, Magic Sam, and Otis Rush.

Just scanning the chestnuts he chooses to cover is like looking at a chart of his evolution. On early solo recordings, Earl reworked gritty blues stompers by Howlin' Wolf and Bobby "Blue" Bland. In contrast, last year's magnificent Grateful Heart: Blues and Ballads (Bullseye) opened with John Coltrane's modal piece "Alabama," and The Colour of Love includes a 10-minute rumination on jazz genius Thelonious Monk's " 'Round Midnight."

He can still smoke like a volcano. "O' Yeah," a funky shuffle that wraps up The Colour of Love, is a ringing reminder of his rock-ribbed musical roots. It's the kind of tune that reminds you why bluesman Robert Jr. Lockwood, himself one of the most distinctive guitarists in the field, once said, "Who in their right mind would wanna follow Ronnie Earl?"

In recent years, Earl has spared blues singers the trouble of worrying about that. He and his three-piece band, the Broadcasters, have worked without a regular vocalist since 1989. Ronnie likes it that way: pared down, no one to get in the way, nothing to clutter up the musical mission.

"We need to play our instruments," he emphasizes. "We like to work without vocalists. I really like Gregg Allman, so I wanted him to sing a tune [on The Colour of Love]. But we haven't had a singer in five records. Coltrane, Stanley Turrentine, Kenny Burrell, and Wes Montgomery -- they worked without vocalists, and that's what we want to do."

The reference to jazz masters is a couple of giant steps removed from the rough-edged blues folk -- Rush, harmonica player Big Walter Horton, and singer Big Mama Thornton -- whom Earl worked with way back in the mid '70s at the Speakeasy Club in Cambridge. And the small-combo sound is the opposite of Roomful of Blues, the famous Rhode Island hornicopia in which Earl first made his mark.

Earl joined the legendary jump-blues outfit in 1979, replacing the T-Bone Walker-influenced guitarist and singer Duke Robillard. With Roomful, Ronnie was but one of a number of ace instrumentalists -- including five horn players -- and solo space was as limited as storage room on the constantly moving tour bus.

"I don't miss the horns," says Earl, though he put in eight fruitful years with the group. "I like the small bands that create a big sound."

It was during the Roomful years that he dropped his last name from the marquee. He has said that he did so in tribute to the great slide guitarist Earl Hooker. But the Queens native has also joked that he was paying homage to another star, the New York Knicks' Earl "The Pearl" Monroe.

The most significant change in his career, he says, came a year or two after he left Roomful. It was then that he kicked problems with cocaine and alcohol; he has been sober for eight and a half years now. "That's the greatest success for me. I like to think that my music has become more spiritual because of it."

Today, Earl's Broadcasters include steady sidemen Rod Carey on bass, Per Hanson on drums, and keyboard player Little Anthony Geraci, a stalwart in local blues circles. But he has always brought guest artists into the fold. Early LP releases (since repackaged on CD) like Smokin' and Soul Searching (Blacktop) spotlighted Duke Robillard and Kim Wilson, the powerhouse singer/harmonica player from the Fabulous Thunderbirds. In fact, Earl spent about eight "fertile" months knocking around Texas's vibrant blues scene with Wilson, T-birds guitarist Jimmie Vaughan, and bassist Keith Ferguson.

He has also been a guest on recordings by the late LA harmonica blower William Clarke, singers Mighty Sam McClain and Michelle Willson, pianist Dave Maxwell, and country-blues duo Paul Rishell and Annie Raines (who will be opening for him at the DeCordova Museum amphitheater). Last year he made Eye to Eye (AudioQuest) with one of Muddy Waters' all-time all-star rhythm sections: pianist Pinetop Perkins, bassist Calvin Jones, and drummer Willie "Big Eyes" Smith.

One of the guests on The Colour of Love is sax great Hank Crawford, an oft-copied master who for decades has blurred the distinctions among blues, jazz, and soul with his smoky, emotional playing. Crawford is the second veteran of Ray Charles's fine orchestras (David "Fathead" Newman on Grateful Heart is the other) who has traded riffs with Earl. Gregg Allman and Allman Brothers Band member Jaimoe are also on board.

The album was produced by Tom Dowd, whose credits with Aretha, the Allmans, and Cream are the very fabric of pop-music history. His experienced hand no doubt focused the February recording sessions, which were done at Blue Jay studios in Carlisle. And his previous work with everyone from Coltrane to Clapton is a perfect fit for Earl's expanding musical interests.

If there's anything not quite right about the new release, it's Ronnie's occasional subservience to his acknowledged influences. The liner notes thank guitar players from influential jazz man Pat Martino to Texas overdrive champion Joe Kubek, and a couple of cuts are almost unreconstructed mimicry of T-Bird guitarist Jimmie Vaughan and Latin-rock creator Carlos Santana. "Bonnie's Theme" has a swelling percussion-and-organ intro and lengthy, slightly distorted guitar tones that are dead ringers for Santana's signature sound. Earl says the number wasn't meant to sound like Carlos. "It's just that when people hear percussion, organ, and guitar they think `Santana.' But I don't have his tone, nor does he have mine. It's just me playing in a different groove."

When Earl is at his best, though, his groove is like no other. On " 'Round Midnight," his quiet, reflective phrases tail upward and fade into the blue beyond like shooting stars while the Hammond B-3 organ of Bruce Katz (since replaced by Geraci) purrs in a fashion that explains why that keyboard is creeping like kudzu back into musicians' good graces.

Most of the new original tunes here are guitar-driven soul jams, with uplifting melodies and easy-flowing rhythms setting the stage for the guitarist to noodle merrily. The title track is a spacy odyssey à la the Allmans that's about as far from the blues as Earl has ventured. Thus far. "I always want to make people happy with my music, to spread some peace and healing around. I want to play blues, but also play other things with feeling and intensity and not sound like what every other band is playing."

The last few years have been particularly prolific ones for Earl. Bullseye Blues has issued CDs showing off his many moods: raw as a New England winter on Guitar Virtuoso Live in Europe, stepping back to support throaty Chicago legend Jimmy Rogers on a live recording from 1993, and then moving jazzward with Language of the Soul and Grateful Heart. The Colour of Love is another step in the right direction for a modest master of the blues guitar. n

Ronnie Earl and the Broadcasters play the opening-night party for the Newport Rhythm and Blues Festival on July 25 with NRBQ, and they perform on July 26 at the R&B Festival, which runs through Sunday. Call 331-2211 for tickets and (401) 847-3700 for information. They also perform on August 3 at the DeCordova Museum in Lincoln, Massachusuetts, with Paul Rishell and Annie Raines. Call (617) 876-4275 for tickets and information.