Dion (3) – Blues With Friends

Hey, it’s a bunch of people playing with Dion … so what!

I’ve been wondering how long it would take for Dion to say, “I needed to round up the best guitarists and musicians alive and pick them from every generation, every variation of blues.” When the truth is, even with a written intro by Bob Dylan, he doesn’t, that statement is just an attention grabber.

This not the first time that Dion has collaborated with other artists, his work with Paul Simon (of Simon & Garfunkel) was nothing short of legendary for me, where his other outings featuring guests have gone down equally well, and there's a reason for that, because those artists were ing Dion’s vision, played his music, stood in his shadow, nurtured and comforted him. Yet here on Blues With Friends we find a host of others, not the least of all and totally expected is Joe Bonamassa (doesn’t he play on everyone’s albums these days), who flashes like a razor on the opening track, but never manages to allow the song to resound or blossom with the essence of a Dion number; all I can hear is Bonamassa’s continuous solo echoing in the background, overshadowing everything else, to the point where the track sounds like a parody of a Dion song.

All of the numbers sound exactly the same to my ears, hovering around a bouncing 4/4 time sequence that has a distinct hollowness, a disingenuous fourteen tracks that simply do not hold my attention, where Dion I’m sure is having some fun, though he's creating nothing lasting. Yeah, the album has the distinct feeling of being a tribute album, you know, one of those deals where Dion is dead and he’s left a grouping of songs that need to be fleshed out and finished, so some produced gathers together a host of talented individuals who have nothing to do with Dion’s sort of music and brings them in one at a time to breathe some life into those unfinished tracks, only to have them, as here, sounding entirely unlike anything Dion would have imaged for himself.

The shining moment (yes, one single moment) is “Song For Sam Cooke (Here In America)” featuring Paul Simon, a track that works effortlessly, beautifully floating and light, though that said, the track is simply too embarrassingly gushy in its breeziness. Sadly Dion, with his need of a god to keep him sober, walking the straight and narrow line, hooks up with Patti Scialfa and Bruce Springsteen on “Hymn to Him” (which originally appeared on his 1986 album Velvet & Steel) a preaching sort of number that I simply could not get through or embrace, imagining he, Bruce and Patti decked out in their glittering crosses that flash in the spotlight with every chord they strum. Listen, I know many artists are god fearing, I’m not, leaving me to resent them for preaching to me.

All and all, I imagine this album might have been more desirable if all of the players had not been so predictable, if all of their playing hadn’t been so predictable, if Dion had actually chosen some of the great musicians working today, those who don’t have the big stage presence these do, artists who know how to stay in the background, share the spotlight and not steal the show.

While I suppose one should not critique an artist’s clothing, that backwards Jeff cap is getting rather worn and silly looking after all these years, with Dion pensively gazing off through a New York city window as if something has interrupted his playing … though in reality it’s just a fashion shot, Dion in a leather jacket pushing aside the curtains, with his photo-gray glasses automatically adjusting to the light.

If you dig the record, by all means, run with it and have some fun … this double edition vinyl set is not even worth keeping for me.

*** It's also available as a double 180 gram vinyl edition, and a super bundle collection that includes the vinyl, CD, wall hanging and some other useless treats, you won't know what to do with.

Review by Jenell Kesler