Buddy Guy / Bowery Ballroom / June 1, 2001
After an apprenticeship in Muddy Waters band, authentic blues guitarist Buddy Guy took inspiration from B.B. King and Elmore James to become an extremely talented solo performer with a never-ending body of respected studio recordings. Late ‘60s solo albums such as A Man And The Blues and I Was Walkin’ Through The Woods established his reputation as one of the greatest post-World War II Chicago blues masters. Years hence, Guy continues to release astounding albums that build upon his legendary status.
Dropping the contemporary slickness debasing the otherwise superb Damn Right I Got The Blues for the raw Mississippi backwoods earthiness consuming latent Fat Possum Records’ discoveries R.L. Burnside, T-Model Ford, and the late Junior Kimbrough (whose “Baby Please Don’t Leave Me” and “Done Got Old” Guy rendered convincingly live as well as on record), this sly 65-year old wizard gets back to the vintage sound of his rural Delta upbringing. And ‘01s tradition-minded Sweet Tea is the unadulterated result.
Wearing overalls (his usual attire) and a processed hairdo at this Lower Manhattan hotspot, Guy dug deep into his emotional reservoir, moanin’ and groanin’ ‘bout pain and suffering like it’s nobody’s business. He delved into a host of worrisome songs made richer by a terrific band of experienced bluesmen. It was during the solo break in the soulful mantra, “Tramp” (not the Otis Redding and Carla Thomas’ standard), that Guy did what he loves to do best: walk through the crowd while unleashing some blistering guitar chords that drifted into the foggy air.
Remarkably, Guy always knows how to counter despair-ridden moodiness with humorous, casual asides, teasing the audience while gaining their trust. He also knows how to build intensity by going from fast and loud to slow and soft within the confines of a song. To offset his thick, creamy baritone, he sometimes reached for quivering falsetto notes that handsomely recalled Al Green or Prince in their prime. For the contemplative “Stay All Night,” he balanced hope and desire with anxiety and loneliness like only the best blues men can. His generous two-hour set was so funky you could smell it.
When Guy realized the midnight curfew was closing in, he put together an economical medley of blues standards that included his former mentor’s “Mannish Boy.” Make sure you don’t let Guy slip by. He’s a must see with talent to burn and more energy and verve than performers half his age.
