Chris Rea has passed away at the age of 74, leaving behind not just a catalogue of songs but a guitar legacy of profound emotional depth. His was a voice that felt lived-in and real — weathered by experience, coloured by blues, and forever stamped by slide guitar that spoke directly to the listener’s heart.
Rea wasn’t just a singer or a songwriter — he was first and foremost a guitarist with something to say. Though he came to the instrument relatively late, picking up his first guitar in his early 20s and teaching himself by listening to the Mississippi blues masters, he forged a slide guitar voice completely his own — one that could sound like a Celtic fiddle one moment, a desert wind howling the next, always soaked in emotion rather than technique for its own sake. His signature was not about flashy runs, but feeling — bending notes and phrasing them in ways that felt like spoken poetry.
From his earliest days in Middlesbrough, listening to Charley Patton and Blind Willie Johnson on a crackling radio, Rea absorbed the DNA of the blues and filtered it through his own working-class sensibility. He once described hearing that first slide guitar on the radio as thinking it sounded like a violin — but soon realised it was something deeper and more elemental. That moment set him on a lifelong exploration of slide and storytelling that resonated far beyond the notes themselves.
Even his most famous songs, like “Driving Home for Christmas”, carry that underlying emotional honesty that marked all his work. His slide guitar — across albums like The Road to Hell and his later blues-rooted records like Dancing Down the Stony Road — was a voice of lived experience, pulling the listener into landscapes of memory, loss, hope, and quiet revelation.
Chris battled pancreatic cancer decades ago — a brutal diagnosis that led to major surgery and a long, hard struggle. Remarkably, he survived that battle, losing his pancreas and enduring years of health challenges that would have daunted any soul. Instead of retreating, he turned back to the music that truly mattered to him, deepening his connection to the blues and sharpening his artistic focus.
His journey through illness made his music all the more poignant
While he wasn’t one for big-name endorsements from fellow stars, among guitarists and blues enthusiasts he was quietly revered. Those who have studied his slide approach point to a melodic sensibility learned from Ry Cooder and Delta masters, but transformed into something uniquely Rea’s — introspective, reflective, and deeply personal. His work remains a touchpoint for players who seek emotional truth over technical vanity.
Rest in light, Chris. The road you walked was long, and your music made us better travellers for it.
Phil Aston | Now Spinning Magazine
