John Mayall
Ah, the blues. The roots of rock and roll, the source of soul, the origin of guitar onanism. When I was in my formative years, I went on somewhat of a journey of musical discovery. Not a physical one, more one that was based firmly in the music collection of my friends and family. As a consequence, I discovered that I have rather a special place in my heart for the blues. Not that I’m by any means an afficionado of the genre, but I know my Wolf from my Hooker, so to speak. One of the albums that got a lot of play as my peers and I hung out at college was John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, featuring a young Eric Clapton. As such, when I heard that not only was Mr Mayall still playing music at 83 years old (27 in blues-musician-years), but that he would be playing at our very own Theatre Royal, I jumped at the chance to go.
Opening the proceedings was The Buddy Whittington Band, a guitar/drums/bass three piece with no towering stacks of amps, no bells, and certainly no whistles. You’d be forgiven for being underwhelmed as these young pups (Buddy is a mere 60 years old) took to the stage looking like they had just met up for a quick pint down the social club on a Sunday, but as soon as they started to play it became apparent that Buddy is one of the foremost blues guitarists/singers in the world. How good? Allow me to put it into context. Buddy started playing guitar as a kid, influenced by musicians such as John Mayall, and by 14 was part of the Dallas/Fort Worth blues scene. By 1991 his band was opening for John Mayall, and by 1993 he was invited to take over the guitar slot in the Bluesbreakers. That’s like me growing up listening to Ozzy, and just ten short blues-musician-years later ending up in Black Sabbath. Buddy’s Fender Strat sounded amazing in the theatre, and the bass and drums were tighter than a clam’s ass at high tide. I could listen to Buddy’s Texan drawl all night as he schooled us through the various blues songs that he was playing, where he first heard them, who wrote them, etc. If you can ever get him off the stage (which I suspect would be a challenge) someone needs to put this guy on the radio. I’d listen all day long.
Then it was time for Mr Mayall himself to take the stage. Something of a musical polymath, I was interested to see what incarnation his band would take on these days. As it was, he had brought with him a drummer and bass player from Chicago, and that left John to take up the piano, Hammond organ, harmonica, and guitar variously throughout the set. It was a very informal and loose set, with the timings of the songs being negotiated between the musicians as the set went and depending on how the mood took them. Again, as with Buddy before them, this was a schooling in the various types of blues that Mayall has played throughout his career. The only frustration for me is that, being a fan of guitar driven blues, once Mayall hit the harmonica or piano (both of which he clearly still excelled at) there was no accompanying six string, and I couldn’t help but be disappointed that Buddy wasn’t up there with him. Because I’m convinced that this would have brought the house down. Despite this (and perhaps one too many free-form bass solos) it was a brilliant night with some world class musicians showcasing the blues music that they so clearly love. I was sad when it was over, sad that it was dark and cold outside, sad that my dog left me, my car broke down…hold up, I think I might have a song here.
