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 With the roster of legends that the W.C. Handy Tour brought into town on November 9th, one couldn't help but expect one mighty fine blues smorgasbord in the offing. True to form, the Thursday night show at B.B. King Blues Club turned out to be one tasty treat indeed. Featuring the likes of Little Milton, Johnnie Johnson, Charlie Musselwhite, Duke Robillard, Trudy Lynn and Joe Louis Walker, the entourage simply blew the roof off the 42nd Street club. Fortunately, no audience members were hurt – in fact, I can hardly remember when having the blues felt so good. By the way, if I might indulge myself, I'd like to say that opening a club with B.B.'s moniker attached to it is a fantastic idea. I fully expect New York City to host Axl Rose's Big Hair Rock Club and Johnny Rotten's Old School Punk Club at some time in the near future. Britney's Teeny-Bopper Club will have to wait, of course, since these places tend to make all their money from selling booze.
Charlie quickly captivated the house with his easy-going finger-picking style, kicking off the evening with a breezy start. Next up was Duke Robillard, sporting an Epiphone Firebird (yes, I'm a guitar freak). With his gravelly voice and stinging guitar work, Duke shook things up just the way they needed to be shook. In fact, one might be inclined to say: The motherfucker can play.... Joe Louis Walker joined Duke and company for a couple of numbers including an infectious version of "The Mile High Club." Suffice it to say, Big Joe added the fuel to the fire that was rapidly starting to burn the place down. And, kids, this was just the beginning. After a five-minute intermission, piano legend Johnnie Johnson took the stage and did former boss Chuck Berry proud. Seated behind a grand piano, Johnson played boogie woogie to tear your heart out, including trademark tune, "Tanqueray."
Last but certainly not least (as they say in show biz-ness), Little Milton took the stage in a bright purple outfit that might have been his pajamas. Playing a vintage Gibson ES-335 that had me drooling, Little Milton was truly the icing on the tasty blues cake. Let me tell you, that 335 sang like a bird, as did the man behind the guitar. Having a string of tough acts to follow did not seem to phase him in the least. With a style reminiscent of B.B. himself, Little Milt managed to further intoxicate a crowd that had already been drinking all evening. December 2000
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