Robert Johnson - Close Personal Friend

The cover for Close Personal Friend stood out for a number of reasons, and none of them particularly complimentary, but my goodness, it looked like fun, and those oxblood penny loafers, man, those were something.

This wasn't supposed to come home with me, but dang it, this was on ...

Released in 1978 on Infinity Records in North America and Ensign Records in the UK, Close Personal Friend was on a label with some pretty solid artists and somehow managed to implode and decimate a number of promising bands in the process. Who'd a thunk releasing an album by Pope John Paul II would cause such havoc in pop music?

The year was '78 and here was Robert Johnson sporting a delightfully egg-shaped haircut and holding a sunburst Les Paul, and those shoes. Maybe I was too harsh, all of that is complimentary. He looked like Moon Martin's doppelganger, right down to the glasses, and looked like a shot from a cold nightmare ... although Robert was the better dresser, and a hell of a guitar player.

The little essay on the back cover by Barry Taylor from Record World says that Robert was raised on rockabilly and r&b and was from Memphis. It goes on to mention Robert's love of '50s memorabilia and Elvis. Funny how these little bits of trivia can set an expectation for what you're about to hear.

I was not disappointed. While this was not skinny-tie new wave, it was delicious power pop of the first order. It was so good. There were hints of the past in the arrangements, but this was new and, more importantly, sounded new. Robert Johnson is also a master player. Right from the opening track "I'll Be Waiting," he's throwing in blistering pull-offs and effortless fills that don't overpower the song, but add a layer of sonic frosting that makes this the best kind of ear candy. He did it over and over. Rinse and repeat, but it was never boring, and it wasn't the same thing every song.

The songs were crunchy, but it wasn't a chugging power-chord kind of crunchy - they were jingle jangly, overdriven, but not distorted, chords that chimed and cut through the mix. The guitars were bright but not ice-pick-in-the-ears piercing. I'm not sure how much of this was influenced by the UK power pop coming from across the pond. At times this sounded a little like early Elvis Costello. However, Robert Johnson leaned more into his R&B roots for structure, but the music was definitely rock.

Robert wrote the songs, produced the album, played guitar, bass and drums, and it was his voice that carried the songs. It may seem like he did it all himself, but he was supported by David Cochran on bass, vocals, drums and Blair Cunningham on vocals, drums, percussion. The songs were tight, but the arrangements gave the songs space to breathe.

Funny how certain players can make a song pop. I was listening to Walter Egan's Not Shy from the same year, and I loved the album, but throughout I kept thinking the lead guitar just wasn't quite in the pocket on a lot of the songs. It's hard to put a finger on, but when you hear something that works, it stands out by comparison. Robert's playing stands out.

This era of power pop has always been one of my favourite happy places. There are a lot of bands who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and then just about as quickly as they burst onto the scene, they were gone.

For every Joe Jackson and Elvis Costello that seems to make it, there were a dozen acts like The Records, Screams, and Robert Johnson who never got their due. For Screams and Robert Johnson, I wonder how much the blame can be attributed to the demise of Infinity? I know Screams were starting to gain some traction, although they never cracked the Billboard charts, but they got the green light for a second album just before things went south.

Turns out he ran in some pretty impressive circles in the early to mid '70s. He was a young session guy and eventually found himself in the UK and in the company of Nicky Hopkins around the time Mick Taylor had left the Stones. Nicky gave Mick Jagger Robert's number. After getting the call, Robert was among the throng of players who were auditioning for a spot in the band. As fate would have it, Ronnie was already in the band, but that didn't stop Mick and Keith from bringing in a bunch of people to play for free under the guise of auditioning. Robert Johnson, by all accounts, made a good showing, only to find himself playing alongside Jeff Beck.

Speaking of Jeff Beck, apparently he and Robert had previously met. Jeff Beck's Oxblood Les Paul originally belonged to Robert, and he had painted it to match his shoes ... but he didn't like how it turned out.

While in the UK, Robert was picked by John Entwistle to be his lead guitar player. There's some video from 1975 out there that is a lot of fun to watch. Robert was just a kid.

I'm pretty sure it must have seemed like a sure thing in '78 to have a six-string wunderkind who was steeped in the Memphis blues and who knew how to rock. The album was infectious and sounded fresh and familiar at the same time.

The album entered the Billboard charts in January of 1979 at 190 and remained on the charts for a couple of months, peaking at 174. Which is still pretty good, and honestly I suspect was more than enough to secure a follow-up.

From what I've read, Robert actually had a collection of demos released by Ensign in the UK a couple of years after Close Personal Friend, which was weird, but as far as new material ... nothing. Which is baffling.

We'll never know what would have come next.

What is perplexing is why MCA didn't fold him in when Infinity went under. I mean, seriously, they kept Rupert Holmes, but frankly that made sense, as "Escape" was climbing the charts when MCA took over. They even managed to squeeze two more moderate hits out of Partners in Crime. However, that would be it. To say his Mister Holmes commercial success declined, and declined sharply, is an understatement. MCA more or less buried the rest of the roster.

Here's the thing, I had no idea who Robert Johnson was ... oh, I know who Robert Johnson was, but this Robert was just some dude whose album looked like quirky fun and only cost a few bucks. Just goes to show you can't judge everything based on a cover.

It's a mystery as to why Robert Johnson didn't get another chance. Considering the friends he had, it just seemed unfair. The answer may have been on the back cover the whole time, and Robert even goes so far as to confirm it when he says his Close Personal Friend is ... his guitar.

Maybe that's all he needed.