Back at the start, few would have bet on Joe Bonamassa even getting out of the blocks, let alone presiding over a 15-album catalogue. It was the surname: an ugly tongue-twister with too many syllables for a t-shirt. It was the image: a moon-faced guitar geek, slovenly in crumpled jeans, already jowly in his early twenties. The guitar chops were self-evident, but really, who needed another go-faster twelve-bar covers bore?
Such were the damning impressions that producer Kevin Shirley took away from his first meeting with Bonamassa in the mid-noughties. And yet, there was something there, too, if you squinted. The faintest wisp of a hint that with a little direction, a few nips and tucks, this anonymous kid from upstate New York could be something very special indeed.
What happened next was a transformation as radical as any of Bowie’s rummages through the dressing-up box. When Shirley and Bonamassa’s partnership set out with 2006’s You And Me, everything about the guitarist was torn down and rebuilt, from the superficial to the fundamental. His long-standing band of sloggers were shown the door. The puppy fat and denims were shed, to be replaced with razor-tailored suits, a battle-ready physique and sunglasses that left him as coolly inscrutable as a Terminator.
Most importantly – after a little pushback – Bonamassa agreed to test himself as a songwriter. His first classic album, 2007’s Sloe Gin, announced the good news: he wasn’t just a world-class guitar player but an all-around creative force, penning music that broke with the blues’ prescriptive dogma, smart lyrics that roamed beyond cheating women, and all sold by a thundering vocals at odds with the unassuming man you’d meet in the dressing room.
By the time he was anointed by Eric Clapton at the landmark Royal Albert Hall show in 2009, few would deny that Bonamassa was the bluesman of his moment. Yet it’s another, less sexy but equally vital quality that has kept him at the top of the podium: a ferocious work ethic that means the guitarist has averaged over an album a year across his myriad projects, from the core solo work to Black Country Communion and his on/off collaboration with Beth Hart.
It all makes choosing Bonamassa’s greatest moments a happy head-scratcher, and dooms any buyer’s guide to be a work in progress. But for now, these ten albums represent the very best of Mr Post-Millennium Blues, and glorious proof that ugly ducklings can sometimes surprise you.
