Rockets: Tons of Fun, Minimal Imagination

Critics carp so much about lack of feeling in music that sometimes the issue of imagination gets overlooked.

Texas-based blues band Anson & the Rockets played with plenty of feeling at the Palomino on Friday--tons of it. But like so many in the contemporary blues scene, the band showed no imagination. Nada. Zilch. Goose egg.

There’s no doubt that this band deserves its rep as one of the top blues attractions on the circuit, and Friday’s show before an enthusiastic crowd offered about as much fun as you can have in a 12-bar shuffle context. It doesn’t hurt that the band is anchored by the real thing in singer/harmonicat Sam Myers, a blues long-timer with a statuesque voice and presence. And the group’s titular leader, young guitarist Anson Funderburgh, has a fluid, accomplished style recalling B. B. King, Albert Collins and a host of other greats.

But neither he nor the band defines any kind of unique approach to the blues. And where it might have dug a groove, all that shuffling back and forth Friday just formed a rut. What’s the point of strong roots if they don’t have anything growing from them?