Steve Miller Band: Wide River : Music Reviews : Rolling Stone

Album Reviews

Riffing guitars, a rhythm section locked into a groove, upfront vocals leavened with laid-back humor – in the late '70s, the Steve Miller sound ruled radio. "Jet Airliner," "Rock'n Me" and "Take the Money and Run" were sly hits, instantly appealing and almost maddeningly indelible, but "Abracadabra" (1982) was the last of Miller's smashes. His next four albums rocked but lacked the comfortable swagger of his best.

With Wide River, 12 deceptively simple songs come on easy but won't let go; Miller is back to form. Like every hit-maker since Chuck Berry, he knows the key to catchiness: embellishing a familiar hook, beat or lyric with some fresh guitar filigree, novel instrumentation or studio trickery. Respectively referencing "gangster of love" and "the pompetus of love" (a nifty phrase Miller's never deigned to explain) from his wry anthem "The Joker," both "Cry Cry Cry" and "Conversation" hark back directly to Miller's heyday, and the entire album is rich with reliable pleasures.

Working with longtime bassist Billy Peterson and drummer Wordy Knudtson, Miller augments his trio with seven crack musicians, notably Norton Buffalo on harmonica and jazz organist Ben Sidran, an alumnus of the Steve Miller Band of the '60s. Sidran's son Leo, helping out on keyboards and guitar, reveals a flair for penning solid pop ("Lost in Your Eyes," "Perfect World"), and the players swing, especially on Otis Rush's "All Your Love" and Elmore James' "Stranger Blues."

Ultimately, however, Wide River is Miller's own showcase. A nimble guitarist and fluid, conversational singer, he's an ace technician who never strains or overplays. But it's his rocker sensibility that has kept his music consistently enjoyable. Like his Brit parallels, Dave Edmunds and Nick Lowe, Miller is a populist – shy of trends and experimentation, he invests sturdy song forms with good faith and unjaded energy. Wide River, then, could join the best of his catalog under the heading "classic rock," a term derided by the oh-so-hip. But like it or not, classic rock earned the moniker for a reason – and Steve Miller's songs remains some of the most convincing of the genre.