There was a lot of talking about “camaraderie”, picking up the pieces like it was yesterday and all that smiley-faced social media funky stuff when news of this album came around. And we went, yeah, okay; not jaded, just too old-in-the-tooth to get too excited, just in case, you know. But we also knew vocalist/bassist Glenn Hughes, guitarist Joe Bonamassa, keyboard player Derek Sherinian, and drummer Jason Bonham were on good terms these days, so those relatively long delays between long player releases were genuine cases of sifting through scheduling for Black Country Communion to get together, put their fifth album in the can and get it out there for a buying public.

The level of musicianship’s never been at fault, that the songs and arrangements haven’t always given them an individual identity more’s the problem, and one no one’s really addressed. This time, they actually sound as if they’re getting that sussed. The way I heard it, Bonamassa and Hughes got together before exchanging songs, ideas, and co-writing much of the material to be found on V before the full collective came together to develop things further.

That the bulk of the material comes from Hughes is apparent, not least because he has to sing it, but it’s also there in the structure of many of the songs. There’s a lot of riff-based material, old school, with more of a forward thrust then your two-bar question and answer format. You can hear it in the old man’s bass playing from the get-go; it’s live and in-your-face; bolshy, snorting deep like a stallion before every now and then racing up the neck in a frenzy of whinnied notes. Once Hughes opens his mouth there’s little disguising who he is, of course, but if you want to cherry pick his back catalogue, I’d say his work with Tony Iommi was a good comparison for overall attitudinal style here, albeit obviously not as sledgehammer heavy.

Bonamassa has adapted his own sound to suit the band. There’s a harder sheen, one that suits the songs, it’s less obviously blues inflected until it’s required, and that doesn’t mean he doesn’t shine. There’s a similar thing going on with Sherinian, while Bonham adds many subtleties while basking in his own place under the sun, beyond that long shadow cast by his late father. It doesn’t mean it’s perfect but it’s a group moving forward, and together.

It begins with the merest stirring of organ, a big monosyllabic riff then belches out proudly, followed by more melodic lines, and with this, my friends, we ‘Enlighten’. Its pull evokes similar opening glory moments found on their debut album but whereas those songs were statements of intent this is one about spirituality. The subject matter’s something Hughes has often touched on, that “higher power”; and while it can be too new age or just over-preachy for many, here it’s tellingly more a questioning of it, so doubters may find themselves more receptive. A warning though, much of the album’s lyrical subject matter plays in this ballpark, somewhat intangibly without reaching conclusions, so you’ll have to go with the flow, or as most of us do with songs anyway interpret its intention as you see fit. The pace varies, there’s tension, excitement, mood and melody in equal measures; that’s what really counts here in this song.

‘Stay Free’ moves between taught funk rock and explosions of caustic rock power. Such might be Hughes’ stock-in-trade but it’s Bonham who powers this one beyond the obvious while Bonamassa exudes shards of distorted guitar along the way. Slam dunk heavy but resting close to that Zeppelin ‘Kashmir’ style they weighted themselves down with on Black County Communion 2 is ‘Red Sun’; rescuing them on this one are Hughes’ vocals, pained and angry one minute, reflective in harmony the next, while Bonamassa inserts an appropriately skewered questioning blues solo to match the lyrical disposition, then on ‘Restless’ the guitarist guides the way through a tale of emotional yearning, over an arrangement somewhat similar to Hughes’ early band Trapeze’s ‘Seafull’ given a modern edge and some firepower bursts from Bonamassa’s six string.

We’re back to those heavy staccato riffs with ‘Letting Go’, where you’d be remis ignoring Sherinian’s understated keyboard shuffles during the main section, while Hughes and Bonham give it some genuine Black Country welly, before it really get going come the Beatles styled hook-line chorus. Bonamassa may only really park up loud and clear during his brief solo, but this one’s another clear example of the whole being greater than the individuals involved. ‘Skyway’ follows suit, a heavy riff betwixt melody and another track you wouldn’t have been surprised to have find on vintage Trapeze album, Medusa music wise, but with other nuances too when they stretch out beyond the main theme. ‘You’re Not Alone’ is more of the same, with both a bit more crunch and a little bit of funk, then just before the four minute mark they each take a two bar solo break that could easily have come over as gimmicky but doesn’t.

Sherinian’s heavenly styled keyboards open ‘Love And Faith’ with Bonamassa joining on wailing guitar for a number that in part evokes Robin Trower-era Procol Harum, and proves nicely effective as Hughes’s vocals soar over and about, so too when Bonamassa joins in vocally. However, the addition of yet more ‘Kashmir’ and also ‘Thankyou’ Zeppelin touches are unnecessary. Rather, let’s have ‘Too Far Gone’ where they add some genuine rock ‘n roll to their classic rock schooled ways; it’s a head bopper, a real trip, with bloody lovely hefty bass lines and inspired colourful keyboard playing throughout.

Closing proceedings, ‘The Open Road’ is a little offbeat, mainly rock with funk trills, also integrally a kind of fun element to proceedings that’s both unusual and a pleasure to sit back and listen to. Whether Hughes is singing about overcoming past addictions, heart attacks, misplaced beliefs (if so, its acts as neat coda to ‘Enlighten’), or simply the changing circumstances of a band on the road, you can take your pick. This is another one that works for me because it plays to its own rules but not somebody’s (even the band’s own) idea of what a supergroup today should sound like. That stated, the last minute or so it shifts into something majestically inspired by Free’s Mr Big, but as if Rabbit Bundrick had joined that band two albums earlier, before slipping back for a final run on their lazy funk rocked riff, leaving you with a smile and reaching out to press replay.

It’s not readily immediate what Black Country Communion set out to achieve with V. It’s not going to change your world. And I’ve a personal bugbear that if they sat on the tunes recorded for six months, revisited and did some rearrangements here and there we might get an even better overall record. But these are today’s music industry realities. That they’re tight but loose where it counts, sounding like a proper band is what should concern us as listeners, and they are, with some rather good bangers to boot.

• Reviewed by Paul H Birch.
• V is available now (from here).
• Official Website | Facebook | X | YouTube Channel

Track List:

1. Enlighten
2. Stay Free
3. Red Sun
4. Restless
5. Letting Go
6. Skyway
7. You’re Not Alone
8. Love And Faith
9. Too Far Gone
10. The Open Road