Although I've a huge reserve of respect for his early days with Spencer Davis, Traffic and Blind Faith, I must confess that - post 'Arc Of A Diver' anyway - STEVE WINWOOD'S more recent releases have rather passed me by.
I needed the press release, for example, to inform me Winwood's last album ('About Time') dated back to 2003 and that his immediate future plans included a summer tour of the US as special guest of Tom Petty. Yes, I'm sure a quick visit to his offical website would have sufficed to fill me in, but I'd really not felt the urge.
However, while '9 Lives' glides into our midst bearing the smooth trappings of a typical major label release (the half-expected Eric Clapton collaboration on 'Dirty City', expensive production courtesy of Roxy Music/ Duran Duran deskmeister Johnson Somerset) it soon reminds you that Steve Winwood's greatest asset of all - his voice - remains as potent and distinctive an entity as ever.
You need do no more than check out the album's opening track 'I'm Not Drowning' to feel its' power. By some way the starkest and least cluttered song here (and one of the album's major highlights), 'I'm Not Drowning' is built around nagging, Delta-fried guitar figures and insistent clicking percussion and Winwood takes full advantage of the space offered him by launching into one of his earthiest, most defiant vocals captured on tape. It's great, rage-against-the-dying-of-the-light stuff and instantly grabs your attention by the lapels.
Much of what follows, though, is considerably more layered and complex, although for the most part, this isn't a problem. Yes, the elements sourced are primarily familiar Winwood staples -soul, blues, rock - with some World Music leanings handily co-opted and it adds up to a potent package by and large, ranging from the languid'n'laid back ('Fly') through to strident selections such as the excellent 'At Times We Do Forget' where Winwood and his cohorts lock into a solid, but niggly groove a la Talking Heads before bringing on a soulful, Hammond organ-soaked chorus.
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OK, there are a few less than trancendant moments. The Clapton collaboration, 'Dirty City' finds the groove meandering and Eric saturating proceedings with his nauseatingly predictable pyrotechnics, while 'We're All Looking"s funky congas and call'n'response vocal workout is a one-trick pony looking for a gymkhana. However, it's saved by yet another commanding Winwood vocal and impressive tracks like 'Secrets' (with its' groovy, Traffic-style flute solo) and 'At Times We Do Forget' make it abundantly clear that both the high profile (Paul Weller) and obscure (Rob Reynolds) alike owe a seriously large debt to the sound Steve Winwood makes when he leans back and lets rip with that seemingly ageless, gutsy vocal technique of his.
'9 Lives', of course, is unlikely to bring Steve Winwood a whole new young audience. Its' dense, layered and rhythmic sound will more than satisfy the familiar throng, but its' sophisticated veneer is primarily for an audience who like their theatres and arenas on the cavernous side and a comfortable seat to catch the proceedings. For all that, it's beautifully executed, not without teeth and -in a year when the best gig this writer has thus far attended was by The Zombies - another reminder that the best of our more senior performers are not only surviving but capable of stepping up to the creative mark decades after their legends were initially forged.
No harm to keep the kids on their toes, now is it?
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