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| Buddy Guy c. 1988 |
No, the blues never made me sad. They just sustained the melancholy I already felt or wanted to feel. Sometimes, you don't want to be cheered up, just reinforce the darkness of the moment. The blues do that.
When I saw the flyer in a store window advertising a blues concert featuring Buddy Guy with John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers as the opening act, we decided to go.
The concert was on the grassy banks of the Arkansas River in Little Rock, with the curved bank of the levee giving it a sort of an amphitheater feel with the stage on the river's edge. Three or four boats were in the water that summer's evening.
We walked past the several hundred seated with blankets on the grass, going right up to the stage.
Mayall was first. I'd remembered seeing his name on album covers in the 60's, but this was a much older man as now in 1988. I remembered thinking his performance was error-free, surprisingly good blues for a white guy.
After his set, stagehands rushed the stage to help remove his equipment and reset for Buddy Guy.
"Don't touch that!" I heard Mayall scream as one of the sound guys started to unplug his amps.
Mayall walked up to him and sort of apologized: "I'm very protective of my equipment."
Next, a stagehand came off the stage, walking straight toward us.
"I don't want to be an asshole, but Buddy likes to take his guitar into the audience and he'll be coming offstage right where you guys are standing."
We quickly moved with the stagehand thanking us profusely.
This powerful-looking black man appeared through the twilight, dressed in overalls, white t-shirt with a big smile revealing gleaming, white teeth.
Like thunder preceding a lightning bolt, his guitar shocked us, twice the sound of Mayall's with a deep, resonant voice to match.
It was the electric Buddy Guy doing his famous hit, Damn Right, I've Got the Blues
From my head down to my shoes
You damn right, I've got the blues
From my head down to my shoes
You know I just want to use the phone
I stopped by my daughter's house
You know I just want to use the phone
And said, granddaddy, you know ain't no one at home
From my head down to my shoes"
That summer and several that followed were not our happiest times, but we weathered them together with the blues as our backdrop.
Juanita's Mexican Restaurant on the dingy end of Main Street in Little Rock was an unbelievable live music venue nightly. A third of the place was a restaurant with the rest an open area with a stage that the Fire Marshall allowed a standing audience of 550.
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| Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown |
On our first visit to Juanita's Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown, another legendary Grammy-winning bluesman, but someone who branched out into several musical styles including rock, cajun, country, jazz and R&B.
During a single performance he might bring out the guitar, fiddle, mandolin, viola and drums.
On his belt were several harmonicas, each with a unique sound.
Standing with him at the bar after the show, I noticed the word G.A.T.E. on the back of his belt. As slim as he was, I thought to myself that GATEMOUTH spelled out might wrap around him.
Gate's show was all original songs, along with Jimi Hendrix-like guitar solos where he pretended to go into outer space and return to Earth.
We left the show singing about an "alligator-eating dog," the subject of one of his more famous tunes.
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| Johnny Winter |
In the next episode, I'll talk about our experiences on Beale Street.
Something I forgot to mention about John Mayall; He was English. Groups like the Stones, Beatles and many other British groups treasured the delta blues, frequently emulating that style and covering the songs. Easily, blues players from the U.S. were more respected in Britain and Europe than in America.
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