Traditionally, blues musicians would head for the crossroads to make a pact with the devil. Perhaps because mythical hellhounds are in short supply in modern England, Robert Cray has turned up in Holmfirth, picturesque location of Last of the Summer Wine, where he might face a much more terrifying encounter with Nora Batty. This seems to be the only reason for Cray's unlikely visit, a rare appearance by a "star" that has the whole village agog.
The charmingly dilapidated Picturedrome resembles the cinema where Peter Sellers worked as a projectionist in The Smallest Show on Earth. Black-and-white stills mingle with aged advertisements for charabancs. A leftover World Cup poster advertises "England versus t'others". The place has a spooky olde-worlde vibe and, crucially, is situated at a crossroads.
Clearly inspired by the venue and cheering audience, Cray is soon hollering about shivering all night because he hasn't got his woman any more. It doesn't appear to have done him any harm: at 48 he could pass for 27. "Yo! Young Bob!" someone shouts, hilariously.
Perhaps because of his cheery demeanour, Cray has been accused of not having the blues at all, and at times he can seem more devoted to the format of the music than to articulating its restless spirit. You certainly hear the blues in his taut, crisp solos. His band are faultless; keyboard player Jim Pugh finds notes you never knew existed. Strong Persuader and Bad Influence are predictable highlights. But as Cray sings about losing a bewildering array of women, you suspect it may be because he is just too straightforward a guy.
However, as the smiling subsides, Cray seems to connect with something beyond his cosy reputation as the outstanding modern bluesman. During songs about betrayal he seems genuinely troubled. The Forecast (Calls for Pain) prickles; the vengeful The Last Time (I Get Burned Like This) is a tour de force, during which Young Bob, eyes closed, seems to visibly age. You suspect supernatural involvement, or at least some sort of pact with a terrible creature with a broom and wrinkled stockings.
· Robert Cray plays Newcastle Opera House (0191-232 0899) tonight, then tours.
