Like a heavy weather warning, there’s not much you can do once Beth Hart decides she’s coming through. The assumed shorthand for Beth Hart is blues siren, but she’s far more than that, even if this latest album opens with the fiery Savior With A Razor, which struts in like a cowboy kicking open saloon doors before Slash comes in through the window like Paul Kossoff with a grudge against his Gibson Les Paul. Very good it is too, and no one would blame you if at that point, a light bulb went off above your head and you thought, ‘I get it; Beth Hart, blues siren’. Because when Hart throws back her head and lets rip; we all get the blues.
But that’s only a minor part of her aural arsenal. Admittedly there are moments here where it’s all Janis Joplin attitude and a hellhound on our trail, but look closer and there’s a smoky Tom Waits burr, a honkytonk roadside bar, country twang, a broken-down ballad or two. She’s assuredly switching through the gears as if they’re all second nature to her, she’s not trying on a musical style for size.
It’s hard to top a Slash-fuelled opener, but Hart sashays by with the utterly filthy funk of Suga N My Bowl (don’t make us explain the title to you) with Eric Gales’ rumbling guitar driving the song to a harried, er, climax. It swings and grooves, shivers and shakes. It’s a wonderful racket. Which makes a song like the Drunk On Valentine – the aforementioned dip into Tom Waits’ world complete with a smoky piano bar, empty shot glasses and a head full of regrets and disappointment – all the more entrancing. But Hart is equally at home wreathed in cigarette smoke with mascara tears as she is with the country-tinged, open-road bounce of a song like Wanna Be Big Bad Johnny Cash, playful and upbeat, and full of warmth.
Still, if you want to experience a powerhouse in full effect then sit back and let Don’t Call The Police sweep you up and carry you away, Hart’s vocal rising and falling with the power of a crashing wave. Inspired by the death of George Floyd, it’s a bleak but beguiling highlight of an album that’s filled with them.
