Friday's Feast
R! Well, Actually, W!

Ain't Got Nothin' But The Blues

It's true, but only in the very best of senses.

I love The Blues. I can't remember when I first discovered The Blues as The Blues. It was probably more of a slow evolution in my musical taste, from Beatles to Motown to Cream to the Stones to Janis -- ah, there's a connection for you! Then I fell for Bonnie Raitt and it was all over, because Bonnie Raitt opened my eyes to Bessie Smith and Sippie Wallace and Big Mama Thorton, and then I got to know Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown and BB King and Bobby Blue Bland and Willie Dixon and Howlin' Wolf and Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker and man, I was sunk.

Of course there were great blues rockers of my own generation: Delbert McClinton and John Hammond and George Thorogood and Stevie Ray Vaughn and Robert Cray and the great DC band The Nighthawks.

I love all brands of The Blues. I love country blues, Memphis blues, Texas blues, and, of course...

Chicago Blues.

So while most of the Amazing People that I communed with on Friday night went to Hogs and Honeys to dance on the bar and ride the mechanical bull, Joe and I met up with the lovely KarenD and went to Buddy Guy's Legends, a funky old-school blues bar on South Wabash in Sweet Home Chicago.

We got there at 8:30 for a 9:30 show and the place was already almost full. The initial act, Eric Noden, was already playing an very good acoustic set. The second act, though, was Little Arthur Duncan, amazing blues harp player and shouter. The house band backed him up -- I could have listened to them for hours all by themselves. When Little Arthur went into Little Red Rooster I thought Joe was going to rise directly into heaven.


But then! Then! Then came the main act: Wayne Baker Brooks and his band.

Oh. My. God. These guys were fuckin' awesome. First off, Wayne is the son of Lonnie Brooks, a great bluesman in his own right.

But man oh man, his baby boy Wayne can play himself some guitar and belt some blues. He got us all involved too, clapping and singing and butt-dancing in our seats. Whew!


He played and played and played -- having fun the entire time. During the final number of his set, he left the stage, playing right on through the audience, having a blast.


I may be a middle-age white broad, but boy oh boy, there ain't nothin' like a good heavy dose of The Blues to make you feel just fine.