On Ordinary Madness, blues stalwart Walter Trout reflects on life and aging with heart and humor.

BY MARK MCSTEA

PHOTOGRAPHY BY ALEX SOLCA

WALTER TROUT IS the ultimate blues survivor. At the time that he received his liver transplant in 2014, he was literally days from death, having spent eight months in the hospital waiting for a donor organ. He dwelled a further six months in recuperation before returning home 120 pounds lighter and realizing he had no memory whatsoever of how to play the guitar. Relearning to play from scratch was a huge undertaking, further hindered by the muscle-wasting effects of his illness that left him unable to press a string against the neck.

Six years and five albums down the line, Trout has recorded Ordinary Madness (Provogue), a career-best collection of songs that broadens his blues-rock palette with hints of Tom Petty, Pink Floyd and Americana. Recorded in Robby Krieger’s Los Angeles studio using gear owned by Krieger, James Burton and Dwight Yoakam, Ordinary Madness finds Trout reflecting on matters of life and death honestly and, occasionally, with flashes of humor. The affable guitarist shared an endless supply of anecdotes and reminiscences as he revealed the making of this remarkable album.