Play a game of musical word association and the name Hammond Gamble is often paired with the blues.
Bluesman, blues guitarist ... he's used to it.
He'd prefer it wasn't that way, would like it if people sometimes noticed his songwriting chops instead of his Stratocaster string bends, but he isn't about to get bitter (blue perhaps?) about it.
Gamble is on the phone from his North Shore home, where he had to rush around the previous night, moving his guitar collection out of a basement under threat from Auckland's rain.
Still, it's a small-scale issue compared to some of the subject matter (love, loss, betrayal) he wrestles with on his latest album, Ninety Mile Days.
Gamble is touring the country with old mate Midge Marsden to promote the album.
The pair play at the Glenroy Auditorium, Dunedin, on Friday, October 10.
It's an early stop in a month-long trek.
The plan is to perform back-to-back solo sets of their own songs and covers of favourites before combining at the end of the night.
It is likely the acoustic format of the tour will sound a bit different from Ninety Mile Days, on which Gamble plugs in his electric guitar and lets rip, aided and abetted by producer Rikki Morris, backing singer Debbie Harwood and others.
Work began on the album last year.
Having assembled about 30 songs, Gamble selected a short-list and invited band members to his house for a series of run-throughs before setting up at Devonport's old Victoria Theatre, where most of the rhythm and guide tracks were done over two days.
The details, the gloss, were added by individual members in their own time and, often, in their own homes.
"We went and replaced the piano bits at Stephen Hall's house; I did my guitar bits at my house; Mike Caen did the acoustic guitars at his house; and Rikki mixed it all together at his house," Gamble explains.
"It does make it a bit cheaper and easier. Because we had guides of everything, it wasn't like everyone went home and went willy-nilly. I always knew what I was after from the beginning.
"I think it's good. It's a bit more electric than the last record, Recollections, which was all acoustic guitar. I get to play a bit more electric, which is what I used to do years ago. I'm happy with it.
"There is always something I could change, the odd lyric, but I tend to spend a bit of time getting those things sorted out as best I can."
Some of the songs on Ninety Mile Days go way back, Gamble reworking a few tracks that hadn't quite gelled when first written.
Soulful ballad For The First Time, from the '70s, now has a new set of lyrics and a bridge.
Elsewhere, Stranger's Girl, which Marsden covered on his 1991 album, Burning Rain, gets a light, radio-friendly treatment.
There is plenty of newer material, however, including the title track, on which Gamble reflects on the first flourish of a relationship he still enjoys with his wife, Susan.
The musician, who celebrates his 30th wedding anniversary while on tour, can still recall the time and place: 1975, at the seaside village of Ahipara, which features on the cover of the album.
"She was teaching up there. I quit Street Talk for the last three months of the year . . . It's a bit of a rose-coloured look back. I have lovely memories of it, but you had to pump water down to the cistern and the bloody shop was never open."
Of the songs that made the album, Gamble says: "They either work or they don't. I have this feeling when they are finished - I sound like a real twit saying this - but you get that final euphoric thing. It's either right or it's wrong.
"That's why three or four of the songs have a structure that goes back a long way. That's because when I first did them they didn't work out right. Of the remaining ones that didn't make it, I'd be surprised if there weren't four or five that creep back again.
"Someone only has to say something like 'ugh', and it'll get binned immediately."
Does that suggest a skin thinner than the lacquer on his guitars? Gamble laughs: "I don't know about a thin skin, but I did put on a jacket the other day and one of my kids came around and she says, 'what's with the jacket?' and I said, 'why, does it look stupid?'. And she said, 'yeah'."
Go back to the late '70s courtesy of You Tube and you can see Gamble in another jacket, a bright red, collarless number, as his band of the time, Street Talk, chug through a now muddy-sounding rendition of single Back In The Bad Old Days.
The title of the track has some resonance: back then, New Zealand music was just a blip on the radar of commercial radio or television coverage.
Nevertheless, Gamble and company packed out venues such as Auckland's Gluepot or Windsor Castle.
Formed in 1974, Street Talk, featuring Gamble on vocals and lead guitar, went on to record two albums through WEA Records, an association brought about by the enthusiasm of former Byrds member Chris Hillman, who'd seen Street Talk during a visit to New Zealand.
However, despite the attention, the band split up in the early '80s.
"We did things that were right there on the cusp, but never happened," Gamble reflects.
"But everyone has rejection letters from record companies. We nearly got there but we didn't. As I say to people, there is only one Elton John. There are a hell of a lot of people who never make it on the international stage.
"I've been lucky enough to have another bite of the cherry with the last couple of albums," Gamble says of his connection with Liberation Music, the label run by Brent Eccles, who was a drummer in Street Talk "on a couple of occasions" and a member of Australian rock act the Angels.
"He rang me up before [2006 album] Recollection and said, 'do you want to do an album?'. Anyway, it came out and people liked it, so they asked me to do a follow-up . . . I don't know if you'd call it a roll, but it is more of one than I was on," Gamble explains, referring to the 11-year gap between Recollection and 1995 live album Plugged In And Blue.
"I'm thinking of doing another album later this year or next. I feel like I've got a lot of stuff out of my system doing the electric stuff and now I can start again."
Gamble is known for his slick, and often nicely understated, guitar playing.
He says he got good in his teens, when he'd listen to English blues artists such as John Mayall, Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck.
Later on came Mike Bloomfield, Johnny Winter, "all those kinds of people".
Yet it's the overall picture rather than any instrumental wizardry that keeps him hungry these days.
"I tend to get pigeonholed as a blues guitarist and yet I've written a large number of things. I've even written music for children's CDs, books and all that. I don't see one style particularly above another.
I enjoy writing more than playing. I don't play that much unless I have to. In the past, when I've been commissioned to write something, I've relished it. I like the idea of getting my head around something, writing it as best I can.
"I don't like being second. If you're writing something, you want it to be good. I do take that into guitar playing a little bit. I don't want to be a lousy player either.
"Sometimes I do hard-out blues stuff; sometimes I do soft pop ballads. I do like a lot of different music. I find it hard to like certain genres, but mostly I like it all. I guess I defer to blues music and, to some degree, it is easier to get across a sentiment if it's sad rather than happy."
Gamble attempts to define the essence of blues.
It's a tall order.
"It's a bit of a daft name, really, for melancholy music," he contends.
He admits he tends to write fairly "down-in-the-mouth tunes" though, Auckland rain aside, he has little to be down about.
"I have two grown-up children who are successful. My wife and I are OK; we have a nice place . . .
"I just grew up being a blues guy.
"I guess, compared to someone like Eric Clapton, I am poor. He's got Ferraris in his drive; I've got a Toyota Corolla."
