W.C. Handy All Stars / B.B. King’s/ Nov. 9, 1999
Midtown Manhattan’s upscale dinner club, B.B. King’s, hosted an entourage of vital, cocksure bluesmasters, the W.C. Handy All Stars, this rainy eve. By no means a mere nostalgia showcase, these experienced performers have all been nominated for coveted Blues Foundation Awards. Most tore through a quirky, fast-paced opening jam countered by a slow, deliberate one.
As I sat back to devour salmon washed down by Stella Artois Beer, seasoned Memphis harp player/ guitarist Charlie Musselwhite soloed with a traditional 12 bar Delta Blues, a Lightnin’ Hopkins-like “Down By The River,” and a stark, desolate “Darkest Hour.” Virtuoso Rhode Island guitarist Duke Robillard then kicked out an upbeat number accompanied by Doug James (baritone sax) and Gordon Beadle (tenor sax) and a languid, down-tempo turnabout “learned from Stratocaster master Albert Collins.” A consummate showman, Robillard then teased the audience with a lowdown introspection that quietly faded into the dark recesses of this spacious club. His pained facial expressions and clenched teeth affirmed the intense, flickering moodiness as he let out gruff groans.
Joe Louis Walker stepped out for “Walkin’ Across the Floor,” decorated by Robillard’s tailgator licks and Musselwhite’s train whistle harp. A hip shaking, hand clapped boogie followed, featuring Walker’s raspy raps and a wailin’ dual sax break.
An unheralded musical pioneer inspired by T-Bone Walker, Johnnie Johnson went uncredited as a reluctant rock and roll originator in the ‘50s (co-composing most of Chuck Berry’s formidable hits). This night, the seasoned St. Louis native tickled the ivories with absolute grace. Wearing a brown suit and page boy hat, he soloed a juke joint catwalk before Robillard, the saxes, and the house rhythm section of bassist John Packer and drummer Jeffrey Mc Allister came aboard for a half-spoken “Kansas City” that showcased Johnson’s historic right hand melody. For a mood-stricken instrumental change-up, the slow groovin’ “Georgia On My Mind” preceded Johnson’s signature tune, the perky “Tangeray” (which benefited from Robillard’s sly solo and flatulent sax blurts).
R & B diva Trudy Lynn took hold, declaring, “Is everybody feelin’ alright!” The silver-haired sparkplug (dressed in tiger stripe bolero and eye-grabbing leopard-spotted gown) broke into Jimmy Reed’s oft-covered “Big Boss Man” prior to purring, moaning, and belting out a dusky medley of the risqué “Little Red Rooster” and the weathered “Stormy Monday.”
The only disappointment of the night was headliner Little Milton’s decision to milk one jazz-licked jam and a depression-bound mantra instead of relying on his awesome Stax, Sun, and Chess recordings. A hardy baritone whose astounding “If Walls Could Talk” and “Grits Ain’t Groceries” inspired the likes of Robert Cray and the Allman Brothers, Milton’s self-effacing humor and rambling confessions were fine, if a bit long-winded and exhausting.
Nevertheless, the crowd left in high spirits when the entire entourage (sans Walker) got everyone on hand to stand up, clap, and join in for the Gospel-styled rant, “Hey Hey The Blues Is Alright.” Respectfully, it was dedicated to the memory of W.C. Handy, the premier traditional blues icon.
