Hail to the King, who rocks Saturday in the Park
By Bruce R. Miller Journal staff writer
You can't say Santana, Buddy Guy or any of the other Saturday in the Park headliners were pretenders to the throne. But, come on, B.B. King?
The talent doesn't get better than that and, on a breezy Saturday night in Grandview Park, the blues legend demonstrated why he's the man -- the one who taught opener Dickey Betts a few things about playing the guitar.
"I'm a blues singer that tries to play guitar, too," King told one of the largest crowds in the festival's history. In "A Blues Man," he said he could sum up what his 60 years in the business have been like: "I've been around a long time ... I'm a good man ... and good things come to those who wait."
Sitting on a chair, his faithful guitar Lucille in his lap, King was like a traffic cop, directing attention to members of his band as they offered up their solos. He wasn't shy about working the crowd, either, cupping his ears to get a louder audience response, waving his arms to get the faithful to rise.
Dressed in a patterned shirt (with pockets big enough to hold a parkful of picks), King gave ample credit to the talented musicians around him and was able to shake, rattle and roll from his perch. "That was good exercise for an 81-year-old," he said, after shimmying during "When Love Comes to Town." He made a point of identifying the song's writer -- Bono -- and pimped the crowd about his group. "You do know U2, don't you?" The song's intro -- a series of "yeahs" -- got the old King blood pumping and the guitar riffs flying.
"He can't stand up and play no more," King said someone in the audience was bound to say. "You just about right," he offered, admitting he had diabetes, his knees were bad and he couldn't remember much anymore. A ruse? You bet.
King had more energy than men a fraction of his age and his voice was still strong, his playing impeccable.
Earlier, Betts paid tribute to King, indicating he was honored to be on the same stage as a man who had taught him so much. To prove as much, Betts and Great Southern performed more instrumentals than you could count featuring an awful lot of impressive guitar licks. He had a guitar "circle," in fact, and two drummers to bring home the goods. While most songs gave everyone in the group ample opportunity to shine, it was clear the best was Betts. While his voice wasn't the strongest (it often drowned in a sea of percussion), his guitar work towered.
"Can we have an attorney up here," he joked at one point. "We don't have an act. We usually play until we get tired."
To prove as much, Betts and company filled 90 minutes with stuff like "Seven Turns" and "Hoochie Kootchie Man." His set was as mellow as Southern rock gets -- as cool as the afternoon breeze and a nice appetizer before the main course.
Before King took the stage, his band (filled with more instruments than most big bands) played a couple of numbers (which, oddly enough, seemed like sound checks before the leader arrived), then made way for the royal arrival.
Generous to a fault, King wasn't afraid to give credit to anyone and didn't skimp on the hits. His voice was still strong, making something like "Why I Sing the Blues" resonate. At the end of just about every number, he let Lucille get the final word. She came, through, too, helping King prove he wasn't just a blues singer who tries to play guitar. He's an entertainer of the highest form.
For Saturday in the Park history, it's nice to know the King finally was in our house of blues.
Long may he live.
You can't say Santana, Buddy Guy or any of the other Saturday in the Park headliners were pretenders to the throne. But, come on, B.B. King?
The talent doesn't get better than that and, on a breezy Saturday night in Grandview Park, the blues legend demonstrated why he's the man -- the one who taught opener Dickey Betts a few things about playing the guitar.
"I'm a blues singer that tries to play guitar, too," King told one of the largest crowds in the festival's history. In "A Blues Man," he said he could sum up what his 60 years in the business have been like: "I've been around a long time ... I'm a good man ... and good things come to those who wait."
Sitting on a chair, his faithful guitar Lucille in his lap, King was like a traffic cop, directing attention to members of his band as they offered up their solos. He wasn't shy about working the crowd, either, cupping his ears to get a louder audience response, waving his arms to get the faithful to rise.
Dressed in a patterned shirt (with pockets big enough to hold a parkful of picks), King gave ample credit to the talented musicians around him and was able to shake, rattle and roll from his perch. "That was good exercise for an 81-year-old," he said, after shimmying during "When Love Comes to Town." He made a point of identifying the song's writer -- Bono -- and pimped the crowd about his group. "You do know U2, don't you?" The song's intro -- a series of "yeahs" -- got the old King blood pumping and the guitar riffs flying.
"He can't stand up and play no more," King said someone in the audience was bound to say. "You just about right," he offered, admitting he had diabetes, his knees were bad and he couldn't remember much anymore. A ruse? You bet.
King had more energy than men a fraction of his age and his voice was still strong, his playing impeccable.
Earlier, Betts paid tribute to King, indicating he was honored to be on the same stage as a man who had taught him so much. To prove as much, Betts and Great Southern performed more instrumentals than you could count featuring an awful lot of impressive guitar licks. He had a guitar "circle," in fact, and two drummers to bring home the goods. While most songs gave everyone in the group ample opportunity to shine, it was clear the best was Betts. While his voice wasn't the strongest (it often drowned in a sea of percussion), his guitar work towered.
"Can we have an attorney up here," he joked at one point. "We don't have an act. We usually play until we get tired."
To prove as much, Betts and company filled 90 minutes with stuff like "Seven Turns" and "Hoochie Kootchie Man." His set was as mellow as Southern rock gets -- as cool as the afternoon breeze and a nice appetizer before the main course.
Before King took the stage, his band (filled with more instruments than most big bands) played a couple of numbers (which, oddly enough, seemed like sound checks before the leader arrived), then made way for the royal arrival.
Generous to a fault, King wasn't afraid to give credit to anyone and didn't skimp on the hits. His voice was still strong, making something like "Why I Sing the Blues" resonate. At the end of just about every number, he let Lucille get the final word. She came, through, too, helping King prove he wasn't just a blues singer who tries to play guitar. He's an entertainer of the highest form.
For Saturday in the Park history, it's nice to know the King finally was in our house of blues.
Long may he live.
posted by Dave at 5:26 PM
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