Fortunately, Boz Scaggs travels with talent to spare. You knew that listening to the early Steve Miller albums. But then Boz split. He resurfaced briefly a while
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ago, providing some back-up on Mother Earth's second release, and now Boz has emerged from his own session in Muscle Shoals—and it must have been something! Boz moves effortlessly all the way from gospel to rock and back again, ringing all the changes and making all the whistle-stops between. You want a Fifties-style rock-ballad arrangement? Saunter along with "Another Day." A slice of everlovin' country pie? Join the honky-tonkin' in "Now You're Gone": tipsy slide guitar, skittish fiddle, and break-your-heart, saloon-gal vocal-backing from Tracy Nelson and others.
For gospel-soul, listen to "I'll Be Long Gone": the gentle opening interplay of Barry Beckett's organ and Boz's understated vocal (with just a hint of horns); then hear him hit those high notes—no strain, no explosion, just whoo-o-ops and you're there. "I'm gonna get up and make my life shine," he sings. Mine. too, Boss Boz.
Or how about a bit of railroad blues, courtesy of the Original Blues Yodeler himself? Dig "Waiting for a Train"—but understand that's Boz doing the weaving with the fiddle and the ricky-tick pieanner. Jimmie Rodgers is looking down from on high with a proud smile.
The album's other beauties and sweet C&W moments multiply. (Only "Finding Her," with its precious lyrics and Moonlight Sonata piano, falters; and it's rescued by Duane Allman's slide guitar magic at the end.) But the peak of the disc is the 13-minute "Loan Me a Dime." Most extended cuts—face it, folks—are a drag. Can't be sustained. Your ear tends to blot them out on most every record, picking out the briefer, tighter numbers instead.
But not this time. "Loan Me" makes it all the way. Boz's vocalizing seems relaxed and mournful at the same time; and then, midway, the singing stops and the cooking begins—horns soaring (the same figure over and over), organ romping along, drums pushing, and some spine-tingling guitar work by Duane Allman. That guitar fools around with the horns part of the time; and they seem to prod it into new inventiveness the rest of the way.
That's Boz. Style. Panache. One of the few. He sounds right at home in Muscle Shoals. Like his namesake, the illustrator "Boz" who brought Dickensian London to vivid
