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San Diego Union Tribune, September 10, 1998 As the founder and guiding light of Fleetwood Mac in its blues-rock heyday some 30 years ago, Peter Green established himself as a musical force with which to reckon. Hailed by no less an authority than B.B. King for his special touch and biting tone on electric guitar, Green wrote such memorable songs as "Oh Well, Parts I and II," "Albatross" and (most famously) "Black Magic Woman," which later became a hit for Santana. But Green was tormented by demons from within and without, and he suffered greatly from the effects of LSD. He left Fleetwood Mac in 1970 and recorded a little-heard solo album, "The End of the Game." By 1977, he had been committed to a mental institution and was undergoing shock therapy. Two years later, Green began making a series of spotty solo albums. A diagnosed schizophrenic and a shattered soul, his future seemed doubtful. But he began to inch back in 1995, encouraged and nurtured by ex-Jeff Beck Group drummer Cozy Powell, since deceased. Green was no longer under medication, and he was clear-eyed and clear-headed for the first time in a long time. "The Robert Johnson Songbook" is his second recorded outing with his new band, the Splinter Group. Yet, while it is clear Green reveres the Delta blues legend just as much as does Eric Clapton, the Rolling Stones, ZZ Top and others on either side of the Atlantic, the music on this 14-song, predominantly acoustic album is uneven. The harrowing power and passion that made Johnson an artist for the ages is largely absent. So is his incandescent combination of defiance and despair, menace and anguish, and the searing impact he brought to his singing and to his fiery, intensely syncopated acoustic guitar work. When Johnson -- who died in 1938 at age 27 -- sang that he had a "hellhound on his trail" or that the devil was blocking his path, you believed him. And when he sang about sin and the eternal damnation that he feared awaited him, he created chills that continued long after his last chord and lyric had faded. But Green inexplicably performs Johnson's "32-20 Blues," "Last Fair Deal Gone Down" and "If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day" as jaunty romps, not hard-edged laments. And "Judgment Day" is one of several songs to feature a group of female backing singers who seem to regard the blues as nothing more than a bright color. In the album's liner notes, which unwisely attempt to draw parallels between his life and Johnson's, Green describes his performances of "32-20 Blues" and "Phonograph Blues" as sounding like "a jazz lounge thing." Unfortunately, he's right, and his acoustic guitar work is barely more than tentative. His brief solo on "Love In Vain Blues" is out of tune and riddled with mistakes. His middling version of "I Believe I'll Dust My Broom" is most notable for its absence of any soloing, save a single passage that is nearly drowned out by Roger Cotton's rote piano work. Green fares better with earthy versions of "Walkin' Blues," "Honeymoon Blues" and "Stones In My Passway," but he doesn't come close to matching Johnson's spine-tingling intensity. And where Johnson's lacerating guitar work and visceral singing grabbed the listener in a vice-like grip, Green sounds polite at best, lost at worst. That Peter Green has the greatest respect for Robert Johnson is unmistakable. But he tiptoes through these proceedings like an awed visitor to a museum, and Johnson deserves much more. So, for that matter, do Green and his fans. |