Walter Trout: Sign Of The Times Review
Much is made of Walter Trout’s electric eel-esque survival instincts. And rightfully so. Overpowering addiction and now over a decade on from that life-saving liver transplant in 2014 (helped tremendously by the financial goodwill of his fans), the great endurer of the blues continues to reward their generosity with this rebuking and reflective take on society’s built-up pent and angst.
Yet, put the survivor chronicles down for a second and instead let’s take a moment to appreciate Trout’s stunning output since death wiped its feet on his doormat. Forget resiliant — from the unflinching brilliance of Battle Scars (2015) to the heavy and heartfelt Broken (2024), it’s been a musical recovery nothing short of remarkable.
Sign Of The Times is the magnificent seventh in this studio run, keeping pace with the unstoppable momentum and undeniable energy that’s delivered arguably the finest and undoubtedly most prolific period of his dogged half-century career. Tragedy (or near-death in this case) can be a formidable catalyst for inspiration, and with the amps still luke-warm from his last LP, the steely blues-rocker has kept his foot hard-pressed on the pedal.
There’s an edge from the very first hi-hat hit as scalding lead single “Artificial” scorns his worry at the seemingly unstoppable (yet scary) rise of AI, with the world feeling increasingly fake each day. Even though Walter ‘Can’t tell what’s real anymore’, there’s no need to grill his authenticity as he lays down his signature impassioned vocals and supreme guitar craft. But what’s most impressive is the storytelling — the ability to turn what many people are thinking into music and words that hit hard.
He reverts from raw and loud to slow and sleepy intense blues mode on the emotive gore of “Blood On My Pillow.”, with Walter’s emotion coming to life in the notes of his guitar. The kind of fretwork that picks out somebody in the audience sobbing, but you know it makes complete sense.
While the steely blues-rocker has become more philosophical and sentimental since his reprieve (who wouldn’t?), it’s not all weeps and woes. In fact, the unfettered joy and pastoral strum of “Mona Lisa, Smile” (written about his partner and co-lyricist Marie Trout) is one of the most experimental cuts I’ve heard in Trout’s vast back catalog. Exhilarated further by romantic accordion, mandolin, and violin, isn’t it amazing the magic that comes to us “in our dreams?”
The title track is another statement for the ages, as the opening riff almost floors me. Trout tunes his strat down to ‘D’ to produce a crashing sound and top-class solo. It’s another staunch message to the world, punctuated by its unique dissonant style.
If that wasn’t enough pure meaning and emotion for one sitting, Trout gets close-up and personal on autobiographical highlight “Hurt No More”, detailing his past agonies in beating booze and drugs. Despite the tough talking subject, this cloud lifting rocker is surprisingly edifying, with the American’s soulful guitar licks as cultured as they are cleansing.
Closing track “Struggle To Believe” is the fierce, punchy blues-rock that Trout and his tried-and-trusted tour band have seasoned to perfection, driven by blazing guitar, a pumping rhythm section, and a bulging pocket of feeling. As the main man himself admitted “We had heavy things to talk about, such as the sad passing of British blues godfather John Mayall (a huge influence on Trout’s career and life), and we went for it musically too“.
Trout has become a master at critiquing and preaching the world’s asymmetry, while nourishing one of the great (yet unheralded) album streaks in this genre. Any self-respecting blues-rock champion cannot fail to be dazzled by this virtuoso guitarist and candid songwriter with a frugal knack for conjuring up works of utter class that are so relevant to the here and now.
Themes of despair and despondency might be a sign of the times we live in, but everything gets a little better when Walter Trout puts out stuff like this. Detoxifying, dynamic, and delightful — the purple patch continues.
